Ramiel
by masquerade97
Summary: Supernatural events and backstory from the point of view of Ramiel, a Fallen Angel.
1. In The Beginning

It was a hard time, all those years ago, when the Angels fell.

It was back before the Apocalypse, before the Temples burned, all the way back before the Flood that purged the planet and sent Noah and his family sailing on an Ark for forty days and forty nights.

The Angels, two hundred of them, had come to Earth from Heaven, bringing with them knowledge forbidden to humans. They had seen it cruel that their Father should leave these intelligent creatures, some of His favorite creations, without this knowledge to further themselves. But if this weren't insult enough to their Father, many of them sought out human women and took them for wives, and from these unions came the Nephilim, unholy creatures of great strength and endurance, often with little sense of remorse.

The offending Angels were cast out of Heaven, their wings clipped. Many were punished severely for their sins in Heaven's darkest dungeons.

One Angel, Azazel, had taught them to make knives and swords and shields. These instruments had run rampant across the Earth, corrupting a great deal of his Father's creation. Azazel was bound and cast into darkness, and over time this caused his essence to twist and darken until he, like his brother Lucifer, became an agent of Hell.

Some of the Angels, in fact a great deal of them, repented and begged their Father's forgiveness. Many were allowed back into Heaven, their standing greatly diminished.

But a few scoffed at their brothers' repentance. They would not apologize for bringing light to humanity when their Father had left them in darkness. This group of Angels had not committed the greatest of crimes, but they were not blameless either. Their punishment was to walk among humanity, without their wings and without purpose. Ramiel was among this group.

Ramiel was not without guilt. He had worked with Gadreel in teaching the humans cosmetics, which led to vanity and Pride. However, this had only been Ramiel's first offense. Gadreel had also taught humanity the use of weapons and killing blows, as well as letting his guard down and allowing Lucifer into the Garden of Eden. Gadreel had been reduced in power after he pleaded for forgiveness after Eden, but teaching humanity to fight and kill had been too much for even his Father to forgive, and had landed him in Heaven's dungeon.

Ramiel had been remorseful when Gadreel was put away. He pleaded for his brother's forgiveness, but his Father would have none of it, and he cast Ramiel out of Heaven with his wings clipped.

And what was Ramiel to do? His Father's word was final, and he had no way back to Heaven even if he was welcome. So, he did the only thing he could do: he dusted off his vessel and tried to find himself a niche.

Being without his wings proved to be a difficult existence, especially since he was still an Angel. Ramiel needed no sleep or food, and so made an excellent worker, but his lack of basic human needs troubled many, and he was cast out of many communities on the belief that he was an unholy creature.

"Unholy," Ramiel thought with a smirk on one such occasion. "What a thing to be considered."

As the years wore on and humanity went through its cycle of prosperity, war, and famine, Ramiel wandered. He never lingered in a place for too long. He worked when he could, helped heal the sick at times when he was sure Heaven was preoccupied with other matters and wouldn't give him a second thought. He would watch the humans fight each other in bouts of competition and war, and he would think back to his brother Gadreel and how well he had taught humanity.

There were times when Ramiel would come across his fallen brothers, and they would acknowledge each other, perhaps exchange information or gossip, and then be on their way. Many of his siblings had grown weary of Earth and wanted to go home, to have purpose again. Ramiel had no such qualms. He didn't particularly enjoy the human experience (it was frightfully boring most days), but he refused to admit that he had been wrong to teach humanity, especially now that they had built such wonderful societies for themselves.

Sometimes Ramiel would run into his winged brothers and sisters, and he would ask for news of Heaven, of those who had been punished all those years ago before the Flood. But the Angels wouldn't speak to him. They would nod a greeting or give him a curt response, but they never spoke on length about why they were on Earth.

But one day, Ramiel noticed that all was quiet where Angels were concerned. The humans had started using a new calendar, and that was how Ramiel knew. The Angels had done something, and now they were gone, quietly waiting for something. Ramiel was afraid he knew what that something would be.

Once, in a time not long after the new calendar was put into effect, Ramiel noticed someone. Someone with wings.

"Impossible," he thought. Another Angel hadn't been to Earth in a century. And Ramiel couldn't feel his brother's presence.

"Brother!" he called out upon approach.

The other Angel turned toward him. The vessel wasn't particularly impressive; a little on the plain side perhaps, not very imposing, easy to blend into a crowd with; but when Ramiel caught sight of his brother's true face behind the mask, he stopped short.

"What are you doing here? Why are you not in Heaven?" Ramiel asked, his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly agape in shock.

The other Angel smiled at him sadly. "Ramiel," he said. "A pleasant surprise."

"Why are you here, Gabriel?" Ramiel asked again, his voice much more firm. "Only the Fallen have been here for the past century. The last time I saw you you were tying Azazel."

"There is fighting within Heaven," Gabriel said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"So they send an Archangel to Earth? Brother, you aren't being clear," Ramiel said.

"No one has sent me," Gabriel said sadly. "I left."

"You left?" Ramiel was shocked. No Angel had ever willingly left Heaven. Heaven was home. All Angels confined to Earth or Hell had been cast out.

"I warded myself against my brothers, and I left." Gabriel's voice was growing angry. "The constant fighting is tearing Heaven to pieces. We don't know where Father went, and our brothers and sisters do not understand why."

"Where Father went?" Ramiel didn't understand. Father never went anywhere. "What do you mean where Father went? Don't you and the other Archangels know?"

Gabriel barked a laugh. "Father doesn't tell us as much as you think he does," Gabriel said bitterly. "I would rather be down here and have some fun for a while before Michael and Lucifer inevitably kill each other and half the planet than try to follow Father's wishes, when we aren't even sure what those wishes are."

Ramiel was taken aback. Father's wishes had always been so clear. Ramiel himself had once been tasked with helping the souls the Reapers took to find Heaven. That had been his task. He would do what he was ordered, until he broke rank and was cast out.

Gabriel could read the confusion on Ramiel's face, and he smirked at his younger brother. "You have too much faith in our Father," Gabriel said. "But keep your head low anyway. Michael and Raphael are keeping a close eye on those of you who have Fallen, and they are feeling particularly ruthless this century. Anymore Nephilim and they'll make sure to destroy you thoroughly this time."

Ramiel didn't flinch at his brother's words, instead feeling his face grow hot and angry.

But Gabriel shook his head sadly. "Perhaps we'll meet again before that happens," he said, as if Raphael and Michael would find a reason to destroy him in any case. Gabriel paused again, studying Ramiel. "You may want to ward yourself," he said finally. And then in a flutter of wings, he was gone.


	2. Human Hunters

Ramiel had taken his brother's advice and warded himself against Heaven. He couldn't shake the unease he felt in knowing that something was so deeply wrong in Heaven that Gabriel would up and leave. Gabriel had never shirked his duties, not once, even when he wasn't comfortable with them. Ramiel could still remember the pained look on Gabriel's face as he bound Azazel.

No, something was wrong. If Father had left Earth in the care of the Angels without explanation... Well, Ramiel wasn't sure what that meant, but it couldn't be anything good.

As the years went by, Ramiel continued his wanderings. His vessel drew much attention, being much taller than most others during that time period, but he didn't mind. This was a good vessel, a young man in his early thirties with a strong constitution. And besides, even if Ramiel wanted a new vessel, he would be hard pressed to find one that could contain his true form as easily. Ramiel, when he had been a soldier of Heaven, had been very high ranking, and very powerful, second only to the older Archangels. There were very few humans who could serve as vessels to begin with, but the more powerful the angel, the harder it was to find a suitable vessel that wouldn't burn out within a year. No, Ramiel's vessel was strong and was serving him well, even after close to a thousand years.

After his first thousand years on Earth, Ramiel decided that humanity wasn't so bad. His warding against Heaven was strong, so he rarely ran into his brothers unless he wanted to, and that was okay with him, though he did spot Gabriel once after their initial meeting.

Gabriel had noticed Ramiel first, and called him over.

"You're warded," Gabriel said simply.

"I am. Your advice seemed sound," Ramiel replied. Gabriel seemed different. More human, almost.

Gabriel studied his brother for a moment. "You're still just wandering and getting by, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ramiel said, slightly confused. "What else would I be doing?"

"Living, for one," Gabriel said with a smirk. "You've been down here a thousand years and you're just existing! Look around you!" He swept his hand in a gesture that encompassed everything around them. "I'm telling you, these humans know how to have a good time. And the food and drink aren't so bad, once you get used to them."

Ramiel blinked at Gabriel, at a loss. "You're telling me to...? What? Eat, drink, and be merry...? With the humans?"

"Yes!" Gabriel exclaimed, exasperated. "You know the fight's coming just as well as I do." He looked up at the sun, as if judging its angle to tell the time. "And you have just under a thousand years to enjoy before it happens," he said, looking Ramiel in the eyes, his face serious.

"A thousand years? Is it that soon?" Ramiel asked.

Gabriel pressed his fingers to his forehead, like he was trying not to lose his patience. "The Winchesters will be born in a little over eight hundred years. And then less than thirty years after that, the Apocalypse."

"I hadn't realized just how much time I had spend away from Heaven," Ramiel said. Then after a moment he added sadly, "I can't hear them, you know. Our brothers' voices, mortal prayers, they're silent unless I focus most of my energy on listening."

"I know," Gabriel said.

"How?" Ramiel asked, surprised.

"Our Father had Naomi damage that part of every Angel He sent away."

Ramiel was silent as he struggled to comprehend this.

"Father... Doesn't want me to be able to hear my brothers and sisters?" he asked.

"Part of your punishment," Gabriel said. "You can't return to Heaven, you can't hear Heaven. But you still have your Grace, so you're still an Angel." After considering this a moment, Gabriel added, "He's a cruel son of a bitch sometimes." Then, at the offended look on Ramiel's face, Gabriel threw his head back and laughed. "We're all thinking it," he said with a wild grin. "Might as well say it."

"I don't know about that," Ramiel said, but he couldn't quite stop his mouth from turning up slightly at the corners.

"You can smile!" Gabriel said, feigning shock. Then a devious smile spread across his face. "Go socialize with the humans. Eight hundred years and counting." He seemed to consider something before adding, "And no Nephilim," before vanishing.

Ramiel was a little offended that Gabriel always felt the need to remind him not to have children with humans. He had learned his lesson the first time. Besides, with Michael and Raphael apparently on the lookout for Fallen Angels who couldn't behave themselves, he wasn't exactly going out of his way to cause trouble.

But he decided to heed his brother's advice to try to enjoy himself. Eight hundred years wasn't very long in the grand scheme of things, especially since Ramiel had been around to help his father create the cosmos.

It was a century later that Ramiel began to notice something strange. With Heaven locked up, there was no one to protect humanity from the monsters that lurked in the shadows.

He had of course seen the werewolves and vampires and shifters and other nasty things before; it wasn't unheard of for these monsters to be roaming and attacking. Usually, the Angels had been assigned to keep them manageable so they didn't run rampant on humanity. But now, with the Angels all safely in Heaven, the monsters were getting bolder. They attacked more often, and took more victims.

What caught Ramiel's attention was that many of the people he knew began telling stories of these creatures.

Over the years, Ramiel had become a part of many communities. He would come in on the pretense of being a trader in need of a place to stay, and would end up finding work, a place to stay, people to build bonds with. He supposed Gabriel had been correct about the food- that if you ate enough of it it became less unpleasant. Eating still wasn't his favorite thing, but the humans tended to gather around the table for meals and gossip, so Ramiel often found himself at a gathering, eating food that tasted like nothing and hearing stories that tasted like wonder. He loved the stories people told, and sometimes he would tell one himself, if it didn't give him away.

But one day, while he was attending dinner at a friend's Villa in Rome, a man told a story that rattled him and sent him a reminder that Heaven wasn't in working order as it should have been.

"I was taking a walk through my vineyard," the man, Julius, said, "and I thought I heard a wild animal. A growl, mind you, and it sounded savage. I looked around me and saw nothing, but I felt as if someone was watching me."

Ramiel ran his finger around the lip of his glass, amused by Julius' dramatic tone; the man had a habit of being theatrical in his tellings.

"After a moment, the feeling was gone. I heard footsteps running from me, quickly too, faster than any footsteps I'd heard before," Julius continued.

"You didn't happen to catch a look at this, did you?" another man asked.

"I wish I had," Julius said, but his voice was unnerved. "I brushed it off, but as I made my way through the rows, I saw something ahead of me, laying unmoving on the ground." Julius spread his hands before him to illustrate what he had seen. "When I came upon it, I realized what it was."

Everyone was leaning forward, eagerly anticipating what Julius had to say, but he seemed reluctant to give voice to what he saw. In fact, Ramiel noticed, he looked very upset over it.

"Well?" someone asked, voice hushed. "What was it?"

"A young girl," Julius said quietly. "Her chest was ripped open."

Ramiel felt the blood drain from his face, and his hand halted its motion above his wine glass. He hoped against hope that Julius wouldn't say what he thought would be said.

"Her heart... Where her heart was... She didn't have one," Julius said, his voice trailing off.

The room had fallen eerily silent, no one daring to speak. Ramiel's mind was reeling. He had had dinner with Julius just last week, and he hadn't been shaken up, so this event had taken place sometime in the last week. Ramiel thought back to the lunar cycle. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he remembered that the full moon had been only three days ago. But a werewolf? In Rome? Never had a creature ventured into such a populated area to feed; they tended to stick to the outskirts.

"They're getting bolder," Ramiel thought. "Probably realizing Heaven isn't stepping in to stop them."

The dinner was over shortly after that, but Ramiel hung back, waiting for everyone to leave so he could speak with Julius alone.

"I do hate to be an ungracious host," Julius said when Ramiel was the only one remaining in his foyer, "but I would really prefer to be alone just now."

"Julius, I know what it is you heard in your vineyard," Ramiel said, foregoing all pretense.

Julius was mildly taken aback. "You do?"

Ramiel nodded. "It's a monster, but it can be killed-"

"How?" Julius interrupted, relief and fear mingled on his face.

Ramiel decided not to mention that he had just been about to tell him and instead told him simply, "Silver through the heart. Silver is poisonous to them."

"What does it look like?" Julius asked, eager now.

"Human."

The men stared at each other for a moment, Julius hoping Ramiel was joking, Ramiel waiting for some kind of outburst.

"You're... You mean to tell me a person did this? No person could have done this! And silver-"

Ramiel held up a hand, effectively silencing the other man. "The monster looks human most days and nights. On the night of the full moon, it changes."

Julius was silent a moment, then his face grew angry. "Are you trying to pull my leg here? I know what I saw! I won't be put at ease with a bedtime story about werewolves!"

Ramiel shrugged and turned to leave, seeing that he wasn't going to convince Julius either way. Before he stepped out, he added, "I'm not pulling your leg, Julius. It is a werewolf. You know how I know?" Julius just glared at him, waiting for him to leave. Ramiel came up with any number of things to say, but in the end settled for, "A werewolf always eats the heart." And then he turned and left.

For the next month, Ramiel kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Of course, he knew he wouldn't have an easy time of finding and tracking a werewolf when the moon wasn't full, but that didn't stop him from staying sharp. He practiced fighting with his angel blade, something he hadn't practiced in a few years, and found that it wasn't something he could easily forget.

When the next full moon came around, he took to walking the streets at night. He kept his senses on high alert, something he hadn't done in a long time. And though he had never been in a groups of Angels sent to clean up the monsters, he knew what to look for. Claws and sharp teeth, a low growl, a distinctly canine smell. Despite what brewing legends already said, a werewolf didn't have fur, and didn't actually turn into a wolf, but they hunted like wolves, and lived in packs.

It was nearly dawn when Ramiel heard the growl. It was coming from an alley, near the main square. Tightening his grip on his blade, Ramiel padded quietly toward the sound; he was more than capable of outrunning a werewolf, but he wanted to make this quick so as not to send the nearby residents into a panic.

The growl became louder, a constant rumbling in the quiet night, but it was interrupted by a crash and a scream, and Ramiel was running toward the sound, any sense of stealth quickly discarded. He came upon a house with the door broken in, the room inside in disarray. Ramiel flew into the house and bounded up the stairs, towards the source of a tortured wailing.

The scene was gruesome. A woman lay dead on the ground, her chest torn open. A man, presumably her husband, cowering in the corner, a small knife in his hand, trying to ward off the creature that was stalking him. Ramiel didn't have time to process this, though, as he leaped at the werewolf and drove his blade through its heart. The wolf didn't even have time to yelp.

The man in the corner stared up at Ramiel, who went to check on the woman. Dead. Just as he had suspected.

"Stay away from her," came a shaky voice from behind him.

Ramiel turned to see the man standing and pointing his knife at him, hands shaking.

"Put the knife down," Ramiel said calmly.

"Like hell," the man said, his voice still trembling. "What was that?"

"A werewolf," Ramiel said simply. "It didn't bite you did it?"

"What? No. A werewolf?"

"A werewolf." Ramiel leaned forward to get a better look at the man's knife. It was silver. "Excellent knife. Had you had your head about you, you could have killed the werewolf with it."

"What?" the man asked again.

"Silver. It is poisonous to werewolves. Stab them through the heart with silver, and they will die."

The man blinked at Ramiel, confused. "So what's that thing you have? Doesn't look silver."

Ramiel looked down at his angel blade. "No, it isn't silver," he said. "It's a special blade. And that's all you need to know."

"But what- How did you-"

"Sir," Ramiel said, cutting him off. "You have just had a run-in with a monster you never should have seen, and I apologize for that. Tend to your wife's remains, in any way you need to. I will take care of the monster."

The man had lowered his knife and was staring at his wife's body. "It was so fast," he said. "She didn't have a chance."

"I know," Ramiel said gently, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "I will be back in three days, and I'll show you how you can defend yourself against these things."

The man didn't appear to hear, but he nodded all the same.

Ramiel gathered the werewolf's body and headed back out into the city just as the sun was peeking over the horizon.

After teaching that man how to defend himself, Ramiel moved on. With the monsters attacking more and more, there was no time to waste. He traveled as quickly as he could, and every person he saved wanted to learn how he had done it. So he taught them how to tell when a person was actually a monster, taught them ways to defend their homes. If they couldn't afford the silver knife, he would get them one.

Before he left each of these new hunters, Ramiel would ask them to swear never to divulge this information to anyone, unless that person was in immediate danger. Each of the hunters agreed, and within the next century, there was a network of hunters all over Europe and spreading to Asia. But Ramiel never gave anyone his real name, and never told anyone he was an Angel. People didn't need to know about Angels, and they wouldn't for another seven hundred years.


	3. What News of Heaven

All had been quiet the last few years. About a decade ago, there had been more demon possessions than there had been in a long time, but Ramiel had taken care of most of them, while teaching many humans how an exorcism worked, since usually only people with some kind of religious power had been keyed in on that information. With more humans knowing how to use a Devil's Trap and Latin, the problem had been taken care of quickly, and most new possessions were taken care of swiftly and quietly.

Ramiel had taken this time to travel to the so-called 'new world' to see what humanity had done with it. He couldn't say he was impressed; he had rather liked it when it was wild and not dotted with small cities of brick and stone. There wasn't much he could do about that though, so he had taken to exploring it, as he had with the other continents.

It was on a warm, peaceful midsummer day that Ramiel was sitting on a bench in Central Park in New York City, reading a well-worn copy of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. He had been in Rome at the time, and found that Shakespeare hadn't done too bad a job recording the story, all things considered. Though, no one actually spoke in Iambic Pentameter.

He had just turned the page to begin act two when he heard a familiar flutter of wings and felt a presence on the bench beside him. With a sigh he marked his place and closed the book, turning to the man sitting beside him.

"Hey bro," Gabriel said, glancing down at the book. "Shakespeare? Really? Guy's been dead two centuries."

"I enjoy it," Ramiel said, slightly annoyed at having been interrupted. "Is this a thing with you? Show up every thousand years or so to check up on me?"

Gabriel smirked at his brother. "Checking on you isn't the first thing I had in mind. I have information I thought you would want to know."

"Wait, how _did_ you find me?" Ramiel asked, suddenly worried his warding was fading.

"I have eyes, you know. You aren't invisible," Gabriel said. "Besides, I can move quickly." As if to drive this point home, he spread his wings behind him; they were gold with shining feathers, and overreached both sides of the bench, easily a twenty-foot wingspan.

"Stop showing off. Those things are ostentatious," Ramiel said with an edge in his voice. He tried to hide the fact that he was jealous of his brother's wings as Gabriel folded them carefully under his vessel, but he doubted the sadness was hidden. His own wings still ached, clipped and folded within his vessel. Useless.

Gabriel seemed to take pity on his brother. "You still can't hear Heaven?" he asked.

"No. Of course not," Ramiel said, surprised at his brother's question.

Gabriel nodded. "I figured," he said. "Come here. I'll fix that."

Ramiel was a little taken off guard, but he leaned closer to Gabriel, and felt his brother's fingers on his forehead. There was a rush of energy, and Ramiel felt as if something clicked into place. Suddenly, where there had been silence in his mind for more than two thousand years, he could hear the voices of the other Angels. It was overwhelming to hear them again, and for a moment he was lost in the noise.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet and reverent, his eyes closed.

"No problem," Gabriel said, watching his brother.

"I don't suppose that was your main reason for coming to check on me?" Ramiel asked, opening his eyes.

"No," Gabriel said. "But I figured you'd been punished enough. I came partially because I noticed you taught the humans to hunt."

"Heaven wasn't helping," Ramiel said with a shrug, but he couldn't help feeling proud that Gabriel had noticed. "I couldn't let those things just get to humanity when Father wanted us to protect them."

"I suppose not," Gabriel said, studying his brother. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he surveyed their surroundings with mild curiosity. After a moment, he asked, "Do you remember those two hundred Angels you came to Earth with all those years ago?"

"Of course," Ramiel said, surprised at the question.

"Do you know how many went back to Heaven?" Gabriel turned to look at his brother.

"Not exactly," Ramiel said, brow furrowed as he tried to remember. "Three-quarters, I should think."

"You aren't too far off," Gabriel said, impressed. "A hundred and seventy-five went back. Some right after it happened, but others have been welcomed back over the centuries."

"So twenty-five are still Fallen?" Ramiel asked, disappointed in his brothers' weakness.

"No," Gabriel said, shaking his head. "There are eight of you."

A stunned silence fell over them as Ramiel tried to figure how seventeen Angels could be unaccounted for.

"How?" Ramiel finally asked. "There's nothing down here to kill us, except ourselves, but we've stayed away from each other."

"Mostly it was suicide," Gabriel said, voice emotionless. "They couldn't take not having some kind of purpose, and Heaven wouldn't take them back, for various reasons."

"Seventeen," Ramiel said quietly, looking at the ground and shaking his head sadly. After a moment, he said, "I appreciate you telling me, but why would you think I would want to know?"

"Oh, that isn't what I thought you would want to know," Gabriel said, as if this were obvious. "I waited until now to tell you that part instead of telling you two hundred years ago because I wanted to follow it up with news that you would want to know."

Ramiel stared at his brother for a moment, not saying anything. "Is that right?"

"Oh yeah," Gabriel replied, visibly cheered. "You remember Uriel?"

"Yes?" Ramiel said, not sure where this was going. "He and I used to take souls from the Reapers and guide them to Heaven."

"Right," Gabriel said, suddenly taking on the air of a child with an exciting punchline. "Very important job he had. And he stayed down here for a while after the Flood, like you. The whole 'I'm too good to ask for forgiveness' thing."

"Do you have a point?" Ramiel asked, his annoyance returning.

"Of course I have a point," Gabriel said, feigning hurt. "I always have a point."

"Please make it."

Gabriel rolled his eyes theatrically before continuing. "About fifty or so years ago, he called up to Heaven, asking to be allowed back. I personally never would have let the dick back in, but they did. And you'll never guess who he's serving under."

"No, I probably won't." It was too strange for Ramiel to imagine Uriel serving under anyone, save their Father and the other Archangels. "The last time we were both agents of Heaven, we were both Archangels. He only took orders from Father and any of the rest of us at the top."

Gabriel laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Who do you think it would be _most _ironic for him to serve under?"

Ramiel thought back to the other levels in Heaven. He couldn't be sure who was still there, or if anyone who had begged forgiveness had regained their status. There was also the bit about Gabriel's sense of humor, which could be a bit twisted.

"I don't know," Ramiel said. "Just tell me."

Gabriel pursed his lips, disappointed. "Guess." When Ramiel cast him an annoyed look, he added, "Just guess," with a dramatic eye roll. "Play along."

Ramiel sighed, exasperated. "I don't know. In case you'd forgotten, I haven't been to Heaven in two thousand years. I don't know who ranks where. I don't know how low they dropped him."

Gabriel still looked disappointed, but his eyes were excited. "He's serving under Castiel."

Ramiel blinked at Gabriel, his face blank. "Castiel?" A nod from Gabriel. Ramiel paused and took a moment to look around himself to make sure he was still where he thought he was. "Are we talking about the same Castiel?" he asked.

"The Castiel who was an Archangel until he started disobeying orders? The one who was demoted because that would make him easier to control?" Gabriel asked, ticking the points off on his fingers. "The Castiel who has to be handed over to Naomi at least once every century to have his head screwed back on straight so he can act like an Angel and not a person? The one with a little too much affection for the human race? The only Castiel there has ever been or ever will be in Heaven? That Castiel?" Ramiel nodded and Gabriel added, "Yes, that Castiel."

Ramiel might have laughed if it weren't actually believable. "And how is Uriel taking this?"

"Not well," Gabriel said simply, eyes laughing. "You remember he looked down on Castiel when he was demoted. Though the idea of Castiel taking orders from Anna was a little strange," he allowed, thoughtful for a moment. "Anyway, now Uriel is taking orders from Castiel _and _Anna, so he's upset."

"I can imagine," Ramiel said, his mouth turning up at the corners. "Former Archangel Uriel taking orders from former Archangel Castiel taking orders from Anna."

"See? You get it," Gabriel said, clapping Ramiel on the shoulder, amused.

"I was surprised when Castiel didn't join us in coming to Earth all those years ago," Ramiel said, brow furrowed.

"Had you waited another decade, he probably would have," Gabriel said. At Ramiel's curious look he just shrugged. "That was when Naomi went and screwed with his head next. A little more preemptive than was probably necessary, but he probably would have gone with you."

"Interesting," Ramiel said. "Thank you for telling me."

"Any time."

"What else of Heaven? Do you know how they are?" Ramiel asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "It's not like I took a vacation up there. Popped in to check the place, left just as quick. A runaway isn't exactly what they want to see right now."

"I suppose not," Ramiel said, crestfallen.

Gabriel sighed. "Well I didn't see Balthazar, but I know he's still an arrogant dick, but he always will be. Michael and Raphael have pretty much regained control, so there isn't as much fighting going on as there was when I left. Uriel's pissed at serving under Castiel, I imagine Castiel is being gracious about the whole thing in that annoying way he has, but I bet he's a smug bastard under that."

Ramiel thew his head back and laughed at that. "You know, he probably is."

One side of Gabriel's mouth turned up at his brother's amusement. "I should be getting on my way," he said. "I'll let you get back to your stuffy Elizabethan play," he added, eyeing the volume distastefully.

"It wouldn't kill you to open a book once in a while you know," Ramiel said.

Gabriel just shook his head and stood, a small grin on his face as he spread his wings behind him. Then a thoughtful look crossed his face, as if he were forgetting something, and he turned to face Ramiel. "One more thing-," he started.

"If you say 'no Nephilim' one more time, I swear I'll cut your wings off myself," Ramiel interrupted, sensing his brother's next remark.

"I was going to tell you to get yourself some chocolate," Gabriel said innocently, holding up a small piece of the confection. "Might cure you of whatever is compelling you to sit here reading instead of heading out for a party. We only have two hundred years left." He tossed the sweet to Ramiel, who caught it mainly out of reflex.

"Two hundred years," Ramiel said thoughtfully.

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at his brother. "Have fun," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "But not too much."

Ramiel was a bit miffed that Gabriel was gone before something could be thrown at him.


	4. Ashes to Ashes

Ramiel supposed the Gold Rush in 1849 had been exciting, though he didn't understand why so many people had risked life and limb to get all the way to California. He had gone on curiosity, and for lack of anything better to do. He hadn't done much searching for gold, since he didn't actually need any, but had come across a small piece by coincidence in 1852. Instead of keeping it, he had given it to a family with four small children. They needed it more than he did.

And now, Ramiel was wandering back across the wide expanse of land that separated the Atlantic and Pacific. He wasn't sure where he was exactly, but he was vaguely aware that the year was 1861, but the only reason he remembered that was that the country called the United States, which was in possession of much of the land Ramiel was riding over, was starting to go to war with itself.

It was a shame really, that countrymen would fight against each other. It had happened far too often in Ramiel's time on Earth for his liking. But out here, the war was far away, and the landscape was peaceful. He was directing his horse North, for no other reason than he hadn't been to this particular part of the wilderness yet. At least that's what he told himself. In reality he felt a strange pull in this direction that seemed to tug at him more as he got closer.

There came a point where Ramiel's horse began to drift from the path they had been taking. Ramiel found this strange, since the presence or object or whatever it was that he felt seemed to be pulling at him from the direction his horse didn't want to travel. But it was no use to leave the horse somewhere and backtrack on foot; the nearest town was probably miles from here, and Ramiel wouldn't trust anyone he found in a cabin way out here. Not that someone in a cabin out here would trust a random traveler anyway. Instead, Ramiel let the horse wander. They hadn't been out too long today, so stopping in the next couple of hours wouldn't be necessary. Maybe they would come to a town and Ramiel could ask after anything strange in the other direction. Probably a group of monsters who thought they were funny. A hunter would probably be along to take care of them.

Ramiel was just on the outskirts of a small town; the sign read 'Sunrise'; when he heard a gunshot ring out. Unsure, he continued into town. He saw two figures ahead of him, one standing and one kneeling. And then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Ramiel wasn't sure, but it looked like an Angel had grabbed them.

There was nothing remarkable about the spot where the two figures had vanished. A revolver lay discarded in the dirt, and a pile of ash lay only a few feet from it. Curious, Ramiel dismounted and knelt to inspect the ashes.

They were fine, like powder, with a foul, vaguely human smell. Ramiel hadn't seen ashes like these in... well he wasn't sure how long, but he was sure what they had come from.

"A Phoenix," came a voice from behind him.

Ramiel looked up and saw an old man dismounting beside him.

"Is that so?" Ramiel asked, keeping his eyes on the old man as he knelt beside him. "Didn't think they were still around."

"I didn't either," the man said, sifting through the ashes. He glanced up at Ramiel. "Name's Sam Colt."

"Abe," Ramiel said, shaking the old man's hand. He never could make himself comfortable with the idea of giving someone his real name. "How do you know it was a Phoenix?"

"Some kid, came by saying he was from the future. Needed my gun to kill a Phoenix so he could get its ash."

"Your gun?" Ramiel asked.

Colt nodded, reaching over to grab the revolver that had been abandoned.

"Special gun, this is. It'll kill anything that moves. Vampire, Poltergeist, Demon. Might kill an Angel, but I've never met one to try."

"Is that right?" Ramiel asked, suddenly wary.

"Made it myself," Colt said, smiling slightly, a proud look on his face.

"Why would some kid from the future need to kill a Phoenix? Hell, why'd he have to come here to get at one?"

"Don't know." Colt shrugged. "Probably aren't any where he is. Said he needed the ashes to kill what he was fighting."

Ramiel had a sinking feeling in his gut. The first thing that came to mind that could be poisoned by Phoenix ash was Eve. And if she had gotten out of Purgatory, then the future must be in bad shape.

"How do you know he was from the future?" Ramiel asked, hoping that maybe the kid had lied about that part.

"He had this on him," Colt said, fishing something out of his pocket. It was what looked like a little box with a set of lettered buttons on it. It lit up when Colt hit one of the buttons. He held it out for Ramiel to inspect. "I'd never seen anything like it, and there isn't anything around to make it. He also had a copy of my journal, with today's date and the entry, saying that my gun killed a Phoenix; said that's how he knew to come here."

"What year did he say he was from?" Ramiel asked, turning the device over in his hand and testing to see what the buttons did.

"Two thousand eleven, I think," Colt said. "And I think I'd better find a way to get these ashes to him. He sounded in trouble." Colt took a glass bottle from one of his saddle bags and started filling it with ashes from the pile."

"How are you going to get them to him?"

Colt was silent a moment, filling the bottle with a thoughtful look. "If I had an address," he said, "I think I'd mail it to him. Tell the post to hold it until two thousand eleven."

"Well there's a date here," Ramiel said, looking at the background on the device. He punched a few buttons, quickly figuring out how the thing worked. "And this things seems to be able to tell him how to get where he needs to go. There's an address here, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota."

"You sure that's where he'll be?" Colt asked, corking the bottle.

"It's labeled 'home,'" Ramiel said with a shrug, showing Colt.

Colt studied the screen for a moment. He pulled out his journal and made a note on a blank page with the address, and then asked Ramiel to show him what the date on the other screen had been. Ramiel showed him, and Colt made a note of that as well. He ripped that page out of the journal and tucked it into his saddle bag with the bottle. He made another note, presumably the one the kid had mentioned seeing, about the gun killing the Phoenix.

Both men looked back at where the pile of Phoenix ash had been, lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

"I wonder what it is they're fighting," Colt finally said, his voice thoughtful.

"Nothing good, I'll bet," Ramiel said, his voice expressionless.

"Well, I will say I'm glad I won't be around to see whatever it is," Colt said.

"Sounds like bad news," Ramiel agreed.

There was another brief silence, then Colt said, "I'd best be getting this boxed up and off to post. Talk them into holding it for a hundred and fifty years."

"That I'd like to see," Ramiel said, his mouth turning up at the corners. "But I need to be moving on."

"Right. Monsters to fight," Colt said. Ramiel thought his voice sounded energized, and his eyes were bright.

The men said their good-byes and mounted their respective horses. Ramiel decided to head over to the next town before stopping. He didn't feel like hanging around where a Phoenix had been. He noticed Colt start riding out of town, in the direction Ramiel had felt drawn.

"Say," Ramiel called, making Colt stop and turn his horse so they were facing each other. "What's out there anyway? Feels strong."

Colt chuckled to himself. He rode closer to Ramiel, so he wouldn't have to shout. "A Devil's Gate," he said when he was close enough. "A door to Hell."

"And you don't have Demons trying to get at it?" Ramiel asked, surprised.

"Oh, they try. I keep them away," Colt said simply. "You know, it's funny. People around here, they think I'm crazy, building railway lines from nowhere to nowhere," Colt's eyes were shining as he described his project, "but they don't realize the lines are iron. Connect them in the shape of a Pentagram, with a Church at each point?"

"No Demons in or out," Ramiel said, awed. "That's brilliant."

Colt grinned wickedly. "The only way to open that Devil's Gate, is with my gun. So even if a Demon gets in, he can't open the thing."

"You may be the most ingenious hunter I've ever met," Ramiel said, and he meant it.

"Oh, I don't buy that," Colt said. "But it'll keep most of them locked in Hell, and that's what I'm going for."

"If that doesn't keep them in Hell, I don't know what will," Ramiel agreed.


	5. Time Gone By

Ramiel was in Ohio when he first heard of the Men of Letters looking to ward their bunker.

Of course, being in Ohio for so long hadn't been his intention. He had first arrived in 1944, having felt some kind rift break through time and ruffle his feathers. It hadn't been the first time, but it had occurred a few times in 1944 alone, and those recent rifts were all centered in Ohio. Unfortunately, Ramiel was all the way out in Arizona when he decided it was time he went to Ohio the check it out. The fact that it continued to occur could only mean that hunters weren't having an easy time stopping it, whatever it was.

He arrived in Ohio in early November 1944. His senses had led him to a city called Canton. The tear had originated and reopened here, and Ramiel could feel some kind of presence, but it wasn't...human. It didn't exactly feel sinister, but it didn't feel particularly friendly either. Ramiel had had his fair share of accidental run-ins with other deities and super-powerful beings, and this presence felt similar to those. He couldn't quite place who it might be though.

Ramiel parked his car outside a diner and got out, hoping to have some luck tracking this thing on foot. It didn't exactly help, but he supposed the cold night air was helping him keep his thoughts in line. The closer he got to this presence, the stronger it felt. And there seemed to be a faint...ticking, underneath it, as if Time itself had been personified. "But if this is Chronos," Ramiel thought, "what is he doing here?"

He finally had a clear grasp on where Chronos was, and he was definitely sure that this was Chronos. Only the Titan would have so much power over time that his essence would tick like a clock.

As Ramiel reached the street where he was sure he would find Chronos, he saw a bright red light flash from one of the houses, and a new rip was torn on the timeline, sending a shiver through Ramiel as he caught a glimpse of where Chronos had gone- a small room where a man and a woman stood, looking as if they had just summoned the Titan, and Chronos was struggling with another man. But that was all Ramiel could see through the tear before it closed itself again.

That had never happened to Ramiel before. Any time an Angel needed to travel through time, they simply bent the timeline and stepped seamlessly through to where they needed to be. Chronos, it seemed, would create a hole through all the years he was crossing and step through that, and Ramiel had just caught a glimpse into the hole he had created.

Curious, Ramiel made his way to the house. He knew Chronos would no longer be there, but he wanted to see what had happened.

Looking through the window, Ramiel saw a woman on her knees in the middle of the room, weeping into her hands. A man knelt beside her, as if trying to offer comfort.

"It was Chronos, wasn't it?"

Ramiel turned to see Gabriel beside him. "Yes," Ramiel said, confused.

"I thought so. I felt the tear and came straight here," Gabriel said, looking in the window at the two people in the house. "Chronos wasn't so bad," he said, then seemed to think better of that statement and amended, "Well, he hasn't been so bad recently."

"You knew him?" Ramiel was surprised at this. As far as he knew, he and his brothers had always left other deities alone.

"Oh yeah," Gabriel said. "You think I've been sitting around down here waiting for the Apocalypse? No, there's no fun in that."

"So what _have _you been up to?"

"For starters, I made friends with quite a few other gods. Nice guys, most of the time. I told them I was Loki, since telling them I was one of God's Archangels didn't seem like the right move, what with their general contempt of us."

"Loki?" Ramiel asked, brow furrowed as he tried to place the name. "You mean the Norse Trickster?"

"I gotta tell you," Gabriel said with a slight laugh, "being a Trickster is a lot more fun than being an Archangel. I get to mess with people _and _eat a ton of candy. They expect it of me. But I get to keep all my mojo, so I get to have a little more fun with it than an actual Trickster does."

"Where is the actual Loki though?"

"Oh, some other world," Gabriel said. "Won't be back for a while, so I figured I'd take his place. Temporarily," he added when he saw the look on Ramiel's face. "It's a great gig, I'm tellin' you."

"Tricksters _hurt _people Gabriel," Ramiel said emphatically.

"What, and Archangels don't?" Gabriel asked. "We've hurt almost as many as we've helped. Don't try to convince me otherwise Ramiel," here he held up a hand to stop Ramiel's protest, "I was there. I know what we did."

"But a demigod?" Ramiel had a hard time wrapping his mind around it.

"Hey, I'm using my title for good," Gabriel said, indignant. "I give people a taste of their own medicine. It's...poetic justice. _And_," here he pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket, "I get candy."

"You could get candy anyway," Ramiel said, amused.

"Candy goes with the title," Gabriel said. He took a bit of his chocolate and held his hands wide in front of himself. "The Trickster has a sweet tooth, it's in all the lore. Read it myself to make sure I had the info right before I tried to convince the big guys of anything."

"You _have _always seemed to have a taste for sweets," Ramiel allowed.

"And a taste for poetic justice," Gabriel said.

"I don't know about that." Ramiel chuckled at his brother.

"In any case, I've taken over as Resident Trickster. It's good fun, you should try it."

"I think I'll pass."

Gabriel shrugged. "Suit yourself. But the other gods aren't so bad."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time one of them has a knife to my throat," Ramiel said, as if making a mental not to himself.

Gabriel smirked at him. "We've screwed them over just as many times as they've screwed us over."

"I suppose that's true," Ramiel remarked thoughtfully. "But do you think Chronos will be back here? It felt like he was summoned away rather than leaving."

"Who knows?" Gabriel shrugged again. "He might and he might not. Depends when on his personal timeline he was here. If it bothers you that much, stick around and watch for him."

"I think I will," Ramiel said, glancing back in the house. The two people inside were standing again, talking quietly.

"You're a little too fond of humanity for your own good, Ramiel," Gabriel said.

Ramiel shrugged. "So be it."

Gabriel was gone a moment later, probably off to torment some poor sucker. Ramiel stayed at the house for a few more minutes, until he was sure the people inside were okay. Then he made his way back to his car. He would find a hotel to stay in for a while until he found work and could stick around for a while, just to see if Chronos ever came back.


	6. Of Winchesters and Campbells

Ramiel wasn't sure how he felt about the 1950s. Sure, the music was great and the major wars and conflicts that had taken place over the past few decades were finally over, save for the monumental pissing contest that was always simmering but never became full out nuclear war, but everywhere his Father's favorite creatures were hatefully discriminating against each other for the most petty reasons. This wasn't the first time he had seen it done, but that didn't make it any easier to see day in and day out. For the first time in almost three thousand years, he thought that perhaps he shouldn't have come to Earth with his brothers and given the humans the knowledge they had. Maybe that had been the wrong move. But there was nothing he could do to change the past. He wasn't strong enough, and even if he were, he was almost certain humanity would have figured it out at some point anyway. So instead of moping, he helped where he could. More and more demons were clawing their way out of Hell, so he busied himself with taking care of them. He tried to keep those who were possessed from being killed in the conflict, but there were times he had no choice. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had recently finished helping the Men of Letters ward their bunker in Kansas against anything supernatural. The threat of nuclear war had led them to build the bunker in the first place (so they could keep their books and information safe), but at the end of the '40s they had started to ward it against all the things that went bump in the night as well. Ramiel had caught wind of this and made his way out to Kansas to offer his assistance. He knew much more about warding than the Men of Letters had, even with all the information they had discovered for themselves over the past few centuries.

The Men of Letters had come into existence around 1800. Their purpose had always been simple: keep the information safe. They began with a library of sorts, similar to the one that had stood in Alexandria. Information on monsters was compiled into books and carefully organized; certain volumes were only accessible after one had a certain standing within the organization. The secrecy helped to protect the library, but when wars began to use bombs that could wipe entire cities off the map, they had built the bunker in the center of the United States, hoping to keep it safe in that way, though bunkers were being built in other parts of the world as well, and certain sections of the vast collection of knowledge would be copied and distributed, so that, in theory, it wouldn't ever all be lost.

But the Men of Letters only knew so much about warding, so Ramiel felt he had to step in and help, and in the end he showed them how to ward against anything evil, even things that hadn't been seen in thousands of years and probably wouldn't be seen for many more. On a whim, he decided to ward it against Angels as well, though he didn't tell the Men exactly what that particular spell was warding against, since he doubted they would ever come into contact with an Angel anyway.

When the warding had finished in the mid '50s, Ramiel had looked on his work with pride. He could only see it through his vessel's eyes; he couldn't sense its presence as an Angel. "From the outside, it is invisible to all evil," he told the man standing beside him in the war room. "Work the right spells inside, and you'll be able to see everything and not be seen by anything."

"Thank you for your help," Henry said, holding a hand out to Ramiel.

Ramiel smiled and shook Henry's hand. "My pleasure, Mr. Winchester."

Henry was, as of now, a low ranking member of the Men of Letters. He was studying his spells and rituals, slowly working his way up to full membership and access to the best kept secrets the Men of Letters had to offer. If he remained on his current track, he would reach this status in the next few years, and would be well situated to bring his young son up as a fellow Man of Letters.

"How did you come to know so much about warding?" Henry asked, letting his hand fall to his side. "Even we didn't have access to some of the spells you cast."

Ramiel chuckled and shook his head, looking at the ground. "I've been around, you could say," he said. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked back up at Henry. "One learns many things after having been on this Earth as long as I have."

Henry furrowed his brow in a thoughtful frown. The man standing before him didn't look to be any older than his mid-thirties. His hair was still thick and dark, and his dark eyes were bright. The skin of his face hadn't even begun to wrinkle. "As long as you have?" he asked.

"Time moves in mysterious ways," Ramiel said, dodging the question. "You'll see, as you progress in your studies. And I should leave you to them, if I am no longer serviceable."

"Of course," Henry said, still a bit suspicious as he walked Ramiel to the staircase that lead out of the bunker.

Ramiel paused at the door and turned back to Henry. "Are you staying here in Kansas to study? Or will you be heading elsewhere?"

"None of us will be staying here," Henry said. "We don't want to be near the bunker in case the key is taken."

Ramiel considered this. It wasn't an illogical decision, but he had thought that someone would be staying at the bunker. "Where will you be going?" he asked.

"Home. Normal, Illinois," Henry replied. "It's far enough away that the bunker will be safe, but close enough that we would be able to come back if need be."

"If home is Illinois, why come here?"

"A group of us has always been in Illinois. My father and his father before him, that's where they studied. When the Men of Letters decided to build the bunker, we decided on Kansas, but we never intended on staying. I only came here a few weeks ago to deliver copies, and offer my assistance."

Ramiel considered this for a moment.

"Well, in any case," he finally said, "I wish you luck in your studies. And with your young boy. What was his name?"

Henry's chest swelled with pride. "His name is John. And one day he will follow in my footsteps."

Ramiel smiled at Henry. "I'm sure he will." Ramiel donned his hat as he left the bunker, forcing away the gnawing feeling in his gut. He knew John wouldn't be a Man of Letters, and it pained him to see Henry so full of life and promise and _hope _when he knew it wouldn't last. But there was no use tearing the man down, not now.

So Ramiel left. He made his rounds, but as the next couple of years went on, a strange feeling started nagging at him. Something didn't feel right. And the closer he came to Illinois, the worse the feeling became. It was almost a nauseous feeling in his gut, and he felt his body become alert to everything around him. This was bad. He hadn't felt this way since... Well, he didn't want to think of that.

Finally, in 1958, he gave in and decided to swing by Normal, Illinois, to check on the Men of Letters. He thought it would be quick, a trip to calm his nerves and put his mind at ease.

The scene he came upon, however, was far worse than he could have imagined.

He could hear screams coming from the building. It was late at night, so there weren't any neighbors around to report it, which upon reflection Ramiel decided was a good thing, since fewer people could get hurt.

After parking his car on the street, Ramiel raced inside, angel blade in hand. There were dead men inside. Men of Letters. But there were footsteps up ahead, so Ramiel didn't dwell on the dead men at his feet.

"Oh Henry," a voice called sweetly somewhere ahead. Ramiel's gait faltered. The human voice was female, but the demon's voice under that, it rumbled and sent fear racing up Ramiel's spine. But he kept running; he couldn't let that thing get Henry. Not here.

"Abaddon!" Ramiel shouted when he turned a corner and noticed the demon.

Abaddon, in the form of a pretty redhead, turned with a mixture of annoyance and surprise on her face. When she noticed Ramiel, she laughed. "You think you're going to stop me?" she asked. Down the hall, a bright light shown out from underneath a door, and Abaddon was clearly irked at having missed catching her quarry.

"I know I can't stop you," Ramiel said. "I've changed enough Time to know that it isn't my place."

"Good. Then I can be on my way," Abaddon said, starting to turn away.

"I can't let you be on your way either," Ramiel said.

Abaddon chuckled and eyed Ramiel's blade. "Then what is it you plan to do?"

"I've kept you talking. I would say that's accomplishing something," Ramiel said with a shrug. "Henry should have enough of a head start now."

Abaddon's expression changed to one of rage and she shoved her hand away from herself, throwing Ramiel backwards into a wall with a wave of energy. Her anger shook the entire building, causing wires to short-circuit and candles to fall and start fires. When she reached the door Henry had disappeared through, she laughed at his mistake; the portal was still open, and she stepped through.

Ramiel stood carefully, making sure she was really gone. He couldn't tell where she went, so he knew it was further ahead than the information he had.

He looked around at the room at the growing fires. He was about to put them out when a voice called out to him. Following the noise, Ramiel found a man, badly hurt and blinded, laying on the ground. Ramiel knelt beside him, moving his hand to press his fingers to the man's forehead.

"Don't," the man said, his voice pained and tired.

Ramiel paused, his hand an inch from the man.

"We cannot continue the Men of Letters like this," the man said. "I don't have the key, and the men you see dead around you, they were our highest ranking. No one can keep it going."

"You can," Ramiel said, hopefully with more conviction than he felt.

The man shook his head and winced at the pain caused by the motion. Smoke was starting to fill the room, and he coughed violently. "Henry has the key. He will protect it."

"Does Henry know that what you gave him is the key?" Ramiel demanded. If Henry knew, he could get to the bunker. If not, well, nothing good could come of that.

"No," the man said. "He never knew what the key looked like. And if he knew, Abaddon would find out. She would get what she wants."

Ramiel supposed that was true, but that didn't mean he wasn't angry.

"You need to let me die," the man said.

"But what of the Men of Letters?" Ramiel asked desperately, hoping to find a way to talk the man into letting himself be healed.

"Henry will take care of it," the man said, and he seemed to believe it. "But for now, you must let us die," he repeated.

Ramiel was surprised by the realization that this man knew he was an Angel. "You know who I am?" he asked.

The man nodded. "I've known since you helped us ward the bunker. Only an Angel could have had the knowledge you gave us. And I thank you for your service. But please, kill me." Tears had started to stream down the man's cheeks. "Kill me before the fire does. And let the building burn, but leave a trail for Henry. He needs to know to go to Larry Ganem for help, if Larry is still around wherever Henry sent himself."

"Larry Ganem. He got out?" Ramiel asked.

The man nodded again. "Now please," he said, desperation coloring his voice as tears continued to fall down his face. "Kill me."

Ramiel hated to do it, but he did as the man wished, setting his lifeless body gently on the ground when it was done. The Reaper that came looked sadly at Ramiel as she took the man's soul from his body. She would deliver the soul to an Angel, who would deliver the soul to Judgement, and it would go to Heaven or Hell from there. Ramiel hoped the man would get to Heaven.

The room was well and truly filled with smoke now as flames consumed much of the building. Ramiel fled, getting to his car and speeding down the road just as the wail of sirens sounded in the distance.

A year later, Ramiel stole into the graveyard where the Men of Letters were buried. Ramiel had reported the names of those who had died in the fire, and Larry Ganem's was one he made sure to mention. He also made sure to mention the name Albert Magnus, knowing that in looking back through any records, Henry would notice the name and investigate. Any Man of Letters would; the name meant someone was going incognito- it was a clue.

Ramiel found the grave marked as Ganem's and ran his hand over the Aquarian Star on the headstone. The words rang clear in his head. _He needs to know to go to Larry Ganem for help. _How to let Henry know? The body beneath this stone wasn't Larry's. Ramiel studied the Star, the mark of the Men of Letters. With a sweep of his hand, Ramiel covered the Star, effectively erasing it from the headstone, the perfect marker to keep a Man of Letters on the trail to the information he needed.

Hopefully Larry Ganem would be able to help Henry, wherever he was.

Fourteen years later, the Cupids were going nuts; Ramiel was sure he had never seen so many of the love-sick Cherubs buzzing around before.

Of course, when he checked the calendar, it made a lot more sense. 1972, according to this calendar. The Cupids had to find Mary Campbell and John Winchester. Though it wasn't a matter of finding them so much as it was a matter of who would be the one to actually touch them.

Ramiel had kept tabs on young John Winchester. When Henry vanished, his wife, Millie, and John were distraught. Millie filed a missing person report, but police found nothing. She kept this from John, not wanting him to think his father had been killed, though based on the continual lack of evidence, Henry Winchester's death seemed to be the only conclusion. Instead, Millie told her son that Henry had left them, that he must not have cared for them any more. Ramiel didn't see how this was better for the child than telling him that his father had vanished, but it wasn't exactly his place. Besides, he hadn't been there when it was said, so offering his own opinion would have only spooked the family.

So as John Winchester grew up, fatherless, he watched his mother fall to pieces. Millie always put on a brave face around her son; she had moved them into her parents' house in Lawrence, Kansas, so they could have a way to keep getting by. When Millie thought she was alone, she usually broke, either staring aimlessly out the window in silent mourning, or weeping over her husband.

John's grandparents raised him more than his mother did. His grandfather was a mechanic, and taught John everything he knew about fixing and rebuilding cars. John loved it, and usually went to help out in his grandfather's garage. And one day, he found himself calling his grandfather 'Dad' instead of 'Grandpa.' His grandfather didn't mind, and from that day on, John always referred to his grandfather as his old man.

When John was twelve, his grandmother passed away. His mother, having been in bad shape since Henry's disappearance, simply couldn't take losing her mother, and passed away just a few short months later. John, distressed, started to distance himself from his schoolmates and his grandfather. He ate little and slept less. He could see the pain on his grandfather's face when he went to bed without eating, but he couldn't bring himself to. It was a hard few months, but his grandfather never gave up on him.

About a month and a half after John's mother passed away, his grandfather came up to his room and said he had something John might like. John acted like he was interested, mostly to appease his grandfather, who held up a necklace that had been his mother's. John took the necklace carefully and inspected the charm that hung from the delicate chain. He recognized it instantly as the Aquarian Star (though he didn't know its name), the symbol that his father had had on a pin. He felt his anger and sadness all boil up at once, and he threw the necklace to the ground, shouting that he didn't want it, that that was the symbol his father had had and he hated his father for leaving them. It was the most emotion John had shown since his mother's death, and his grandfather just stood and let him shout.

When John had shouted himself hoarse, he broke down and cried. His grandfather said nothing, just sat beside him on the bed and let him cry.

John kept the necklace, even though he claimed he never wanted it. He carried it with him until it was lost in Vietnam.

When John was eighteen, in 1972, he met the woman he would marry.

Ramiel was sitting outside a cafe, idly drinking a coffee and skimming the local paper when John Winchester and Mary Campbell first crossed paths. He was seated across from the garage where John worked, and he happened to glance up when Mary pulled in in her father's car.

She was a pretty girl. Tall, thin, blonde. Ramiel knew, however, that she was more than capable of killing creatures twice her size. She was strong, and a good hunter. Always clever, always observant. Ramiel had seen the Campbells on hunts, and they were ruthlessly efficient, never leaving a stone unturned, as it were. And Mary was a natural, as if she were born to do just that. He could tell she hated it, but she was good at it.

John, to his credit, was a handsome man. Tall with dark hair and bright eyes, and well muscled from his time in the Marines. He would have done well with the Men of Letters, Ramiel thought.

Ramiel watched the encounter with interest, doing his best to appear to be reading the paper. He noticed that, unfortunately, the two didn't seem to get along. They didn't exactly argue, but they were definitely distancing themselves from each other. And if their relationship continued like that, a Cupid would definitely need to step in.

And so there were about six Cupids in Lawrence, more than had ever been in one place at any point in history. They were watching, giggling to each other. None of them payed any attention to their Fallen brother, but that was fine by Ramiel. The last thing he wanted was to be ambushed by six Cupid hugs in greeting.

John and Mary crossed paths many times over the next couple of months, and they didn't speak if it could be avoided. At that point, it was agreed among the Cupids that they would have to do something about it. Even Ramiel could hear the orders from Heaven, and they weren't directed at him. This was something Michael needed to have happen.

One day, when Mary and John were both seated in a diner waiting for morning coffee, a Cupid walked in, trying to act nonchalant. Ramiel noticed the Cherub's targets, and followed him in, pretending to busy himself with choosing a song at the jukebox.

He had no idea how the Cupid managed to get Mary and John near enough to each other to touch both of them at the same time, but whatever it was must have been pretty strong, because Ramiel couldn't remember those two ever willingly standing that close to each other.

As usual, it only took a touch for the magic to be done. Ramiel was a little amused as John offered to buy Mary dinner sometime. The Cupid looked like an excited child as he left the diner. Ramiel was about to follow him, but thought it might be strange to show up, fiddle with the jukebox, and then leave, so he sat a few seats away from John and Mary and ordered a cup of coffee, staring absentmindedly out the window as he listened to them talk.

It was with mild alarm that Ramiel realized that this meant John and Mary's sons would both be around in a little over ten years, which meant that in less than forty years, Michael and Lucifer would take their vessels for the Apocalypse.


	7. Broken Brother

Ramiel hated to admit how much interest he had in John Winchester and Mary Campbell. He had watched their relationship develop over the last year (partly because he was interested in seeing how it worked out, partly because he didn't have much else to do), and he was constantly amazed at how well a Cupid's powers worked. A year ago, John and Mary had wanted nothing to do with each other, but now? They were nearly inseparable. Most mornings they met for coffee before John had to go to work. Mary never told John she was a hunter, and Ramiel could tell that in addition to whatever feelings she had for John, she saw him as a way to get far away from hunting. He was her chance to get out. Ramiel liked to think that John saw something similar in Mary; a close family to care for, something he had never had.

When John went to fight in Vietnam as a Marine, he wrote Mary letters constantly. He left out the disturbing details of war and instead told her stories of what the other soldiers in his Unit had done, how the food was, anything other than the fighting and killing that was going on. He wrote her and told her that he was keeping all of her letters safe, and that he always carried one with him. He wrote her when he found that his mother's necklace had been lost in some bog. Some of his letters were short, and it was clear he had written them just to let her know that he was still alive and kicking and coming home.

Mary tried to keep the worry out of her mind, but she often found her mind wandering to John and hoping he was okay. Every time she got a letter from him, her face lit up. And on the day that John came home (with a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart, among other things), Mary cried with joy, holding him tight. Ramiel had kept an eye on her while John was away, since he couldn't do much to protect John in Vietnam. It had kept his mind busy, even though he knew Mary could take care of herself, and he was almost as relieved as she was when he came home.

There was one day, almost exactly a year after the Cupids were in town, that Ramiel was seated in the diner in town, idly sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, keeping an eye on John at the counter. John had been home from the war for a few months, and had readjusted seamlessly. Ramiel usually kept an eye on John and Mary in passing, and had tried to avoid being in their vicinity for too long, but today was different. He couldn't be sure why, but something about this morning felt... off. In truth, the whole town had had an unusual feel for the past week or so. Whatever it was, it felt sinister, so Ramiel had been keeping an eye on John, just to be safe.

That was when someone else entered the diner; a presence Ramiel had never felt before. When he looked up, he noticed a young man, late twenties by the look of it, with short blonde hair and green eyes. He wore a leather jacket, and the longer Ramiel looked at him, the more familiar he became, though Ramiel was sure he had never seen this man's face before. The feeling remained as the young man approached the counter and took a seat next to John. Something about the way he moved reminded Ramiel of Mary; always sure and precise.

When Ramiel heard the young man's voice, he felt as if someone had smacked him clear across the face. He couldn't be sure if the realization had come up from the depths of his mind; from back when he and his brothers had first known the names of those who would bring about the Apocalypse; or if it had come back through the ages with this young man, from a time when Seals were snapping and the end was near, but he knew for sure who he was looking at.

Ramiel was staring at Dean Winchester.

But what was he doing here, almost six years before his birth? Obviously someone had sent him back, but only an Angel could do that, and Dean wasn't serving as anyone's vessel but his own. No, if Dean was here, something must be about to go very wrong with John and Mary.

"Hey, you okay buddy?" the man in the booth behind him asked, effectively snapping Ramiel back to the present.

"Yes. I'm fine," Ramiel said, standing. John had just left a moment ago, and now Dean was heading out too. Ramiel threw a couple dollars on the table for his coffee and followed Dean.

Dean was following as close behind John as he dared, and when he turned a corner, Ramiel was worried he had lost him. He quickened his pace and started to round the turn when he quickly pulled himself back and waited just out of sight, holding his breath, hoping he hadn't been spotted. He sighed inwardly when the conversation didn't halt on account of his appearance.

He had seen Dean Winchester speaking with an Angel. He hadn't gotten a good look at his brother; his only thought having been to get back around the corner without being seen; but when he heard his brother's voice, he knew who it was. Castiel, different from the last time Ramiel had seen him, speaking to Dean Winchester. Ramiel was sure this meant something was about to happen that shouldn't be happening. This suspicion was only further confirmed when he heard Castiel tell Dean there was something that needed to be stopped.

There was a familiar flutter of wings, and then Dean's footsteps continuing. Ramiel slowly rounded the turn and watched as Dean crossed the street to a car dealer's lot where John was speaking to a salesman.

"So Dean knows that's his father," Ramiel thought as he watched Dean approach John. "Which means he knows something is going to happen."

As much as Ramiel wanted to protect John, he felt obliged to check on Mary as well, so as Dean began a conversation with his father, Ramiel turned in a different direction, heading back to his car so he could go check on Mary.

As Ramiel drove down Mary's street, he saw her sitting on the porch, reading a novel. She didn't appear to be in any danger, but Ramiel still had the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. He couldn't sense anything specific, just a constant presence that felt as if it were everywhere at once. And it didn't feel friendly.

Evil things hadn't frightened Ramiel in many years. The last time something had frightened him had been when he had come face to face with Abaddon almost twenty years before, and she had yet to resurface. (This was concerning in its own right, since John Winchester was Henry's son and the spell Henry had cast would likely take him straight to his next of kin. Which only meant that Henry was still further in the future than was probably safe.) But this presence, here in Lawrence, it worried Ramiel, like a constant nagging in the back of his mind. It was worth mentioning, though, that the Knights of Hell had a far more terrifying and imposing presence, so it was highly improbable that Abaddon, very likely the last of the Knights, was here.

Ramiel pulled into the driveway of the house on the corner, the one where he was staying. It was small, but comfortable, and Ramiel didn't need much anyway. He retrieved a book from inside before returning to the porch to sit and read so he could keep an eye out. It was hard to concentrate on the book though. His thoughts kept turning over on each other. The more he thought about it, the more he thought this presence he felt was somewhat familiar, similar to hearing a voice he was sure he knew but couldn't quite place.

A while later, Ramiel heard the growl of an engine, and looked up to see John driving toward Mary's house in an unfamiliar car, the one he had bought earlier that day. Another car, this one small and unassuming, followed at a respectable distance, driven by Dean Winchester. Mary set her book down and ran to meet John by the car. After a brief conversation, she and John were in the car and on their way back into town, Dean tailing them.

After a brief internal debate, Ramiel set his book down and followed them.

After John had parked the car, he and Mary entered a small cafe. Ramiel saw Dean park his car down the street and then sneak around to an alley near the hangout so he could keep an eye on them.

Ramiel didn't feel the need to keep watch, what with Dean taking care of that and Mary being a capable hunter in her own right. Instead, he went on a walk through the town, letting the clear night air spin his thought around. In fact, Ramiel was so lost in thought that when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him sharply into an alley, his whole reaction was instinct: he had his angel blade out in the blink of an eye and had used his momentum to turn out of his attacker's grasp and bring his blade down. But the blade only connected with a twin, another angel blade.

"I'd appreciate if we left Death out of this," a familiar voice said. "I mean, he's a nice guy, but I'd rather meet him for bad truck stop food."

"Gabriel?" Ramiel asked as his wits came back to him. He replaced his blade, staring incredulously into his brother's face. "What are you doing here?"

"What am _I _doing here?" Gabriel laughed. "What are _you _doing here? I've been over this town more times than I care to admit over the last twenty years, _and you're still here._ What're you trying to do, huh? This is too long and you know it."

"I'm keeping an eye on John Winchester," Ramiel said, annoyed.

"John Winchester?" Gabriel asked, surprised. "Who the hell is John Winchester?" Then realization seemed to come to him, and his eyes narrowed. "The John Winchester who is the father of Michael and Lucifer's vessels?"

"Yes," Ramiel said, surprised when Gabriel barked a laugh.

"You're watching a man who won't be harmed," Gabriel said. His face was amused but his eyes were angry. "Michael needs him alive. Nothing will happen to John as long as his sons aren't born."

"I'm not so sure," Ramiel countered, standing his ground.

"What makes you say that?" Gabriel snapped.

"His son is here." When Gabriel stared blankly at him, Ramiel added, "Dean Winchester has come back to 1973."

"Why would he be here?" Gabriel asked, suspicious.

"I don't know," Ramiel answered. "But he was speaking with Castiel, and Castiel told him he needed to stop something."

Gabriel had caught on the name Castiel and didn't seem to have heard the last part of Ramiel's statement. "Castiel is here?" Gabriel asked.

"Not that I know of. As far as I can tell, he dropped Dean here and left."

"Then you really need to leave," Gabriel said. "You don't know when the last time Naomi reset him was, and he just might find it justifiable to kill you."

"Kill me? I've done nothing wrong in my time here."

Gabriel looked like he wanted to smack his brother, but restrained himself. "You. Need. To. Leave," Gabriel said slowly, as if Ramiel were hard of hearing. "Whether or not another Angel is here, you've been here too long. Do I really need to tell you that your vessel doesn't age as long as you're in it? People notice when someone doesn't get older, and we're going to have a problem if you don't take off."

"I can't leave until I know they're safe," Ramiel said firmly.

"Who? The vessels' parents? They'll be fine. Michael is dead set on his death match with Lucifer and won't let anything stop it from happening," Gabriel said, exasperated. "You need to leave before Michael notices you and decides he really doesn't want you near his vessel's father."

"What about Dean? What if _he _is Michael's vessel?"

"Then his parents are extra safe. What part of 'Michael won't let anything stop the Apocalypse' are you not getting?"

"I'm staying," Ramiel said with conviction. "Until Castiel takes Dean back to his own time," he amended when he saw the enraged look on his brother's face. "Something doesn't feel right here. There is a presence I can't place, and it feels sinister."

"Fine," Gabriel said, looking tired. "But you need to leave as soon as you can." With that, he was gone.

The next day, as Ramiel was sitting on his porch doing his best to focus on his novel, he noticed Dean pull into the Campbells' driveway behind Mary and her father. When Ramiel had seen Mary and Samuel leave that morning, he had assumed it was on a case. He knew that a Demon had been down to a farm at the edge of town a few days before, but the Demon had been there and gone before Ramiel could do anything about it. Sometimes his lack of wings really pissed him off. But he had never expected Dean to work the case with them. And later that evening, Dean left quickly, purpose in his step. Ramiel abandoned his book and made a quick drive past John's house to make sure there was nothing there.

Ramiel tried to convince himself that he was just being paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. This feeling was confirmed the following afternoon when he saw Mary get hurriedly into her dad's truck and wait impatiently for him to arrive. Ramiel had just gotten in his car when Mary and her father started down the road, and a few times he only just had time to see the bed of the truck turning a corner. They came to a neighborhood just a few miles from their own and stopped in front of the house that belonged to a girl Ramiel remembered seeing Mary around town with.

Mary and her father were out of the truck almost before it was put in park. Ramiel waited at the end of the street, watching, not knowing what to do. They were hunters, more than capable of taking care of a demon, but he felt obliged to protect them. Luckily, it was then that Dean pulled up, tires screeching. Ramiel wasn't sure he even turned the car off before jumping out and racing inside, a revolver gripped tightly in his hand.

It was with some alarm that Ramiel realized he had seen that revolver once before, in 1861, in the hands of an old hunter beside the remains of a Phoenix. It was Colt's gun.

Just a moment later, Ramiel saw the tell-tale smoke of a Demon curling out of the house, the thing's face obscured by its own form. Stunned, Ramiel watched the smoke curl away. It wasn't solid black, like a normal Demon. To a human it probably was, but Ramiel could see something else, a jaundiced glow within the smoke. Ramiel felt sick at the sight of it, and he knew that this was the presence he had felt all week. But the Demon didn't go anywhere; it simply hovered behind the house, as if waiting for something.

Dean and Mary exited the house and stood on the lawn, talking and waiting for Samuel, who was probably inside speaking to whomever was left inside. But then, the smoke reentered the house, and Ramiel had the sinking feeling that he knew who the Demon was going to possess. A moment later, when Samuel was on the lawn with Dean and Mary, Ramiel saw who the Demon was. The face sent a shot of fear through Ramiel's gut. Azazel. His brother.

Ramiel's mind reeled as he followed the Campbells and Dean back to the Campbell residence. He had thought, no, he had hoped, Azazel had died all those years ago. An Angel thrown into darkness to be tortured didn't have much of a fighting chance. Death would have been a welcome relief for Azazel. But all that torture, obviously it had twisted Azazel into something else. The yellow tint to his Demonic form made sense now; it was his Grace, twisted and sickened until it turned on him and made him a General of Hell. Ramiel had seen the Generals, many years ago when they had been active. Every one of them had been an Angel tortured beyond recognition. Ramiel hadn't seen Azazel among them before, and that had given him a small sliver of hope that his brother had died or taken his own life before that could be done to him. Obviously he had been foolish for having such thoughts.

Ramiel didn't even get out of his car when he stopped in front of his own house and watched the hunters enter the Campbell home. He wanted to be ready when something happened.

A few minutes later, John pulled up outside the house and Mary ran out to meet him, looking upset. But she paused to hug John, so Ramiel knew she wasn't upset over finding a Demon in her home, in her father, but instead had something to do with the hunt. John looked a little bewildered, but he held the door of the car open for Mary before getting in himself and driving off. Ramiel wanted to follow, but told himself that Azazel was in the house, and he was the danger. If John and Mary were further away, hopefully they would be safer.

It was only a few minutes after that that Ramiel saw a fight break out in the house. He could see shadows moving against the curtains, but not much else. And then Dean was running out of the house and to his car.

Immediately Ramiel knew where Azazel had gone. He didn't know how he knew, but he put the car in gear and started down the road, using his Abilities for the first time in a long time so he could locate John and Mary. When he had a clear idea of where they were, he gunned the car, hoping nothing happened to them.

When he reached the water where they were parked, he stopped his car and got out, creeping closer while staying hidden in the trees surrounding the clearing. Mary was sitting on the ground with John's body cradled in her lap, tears streaming down her face as Azazel sat beside her, informing her that her parents were also dead. Ramiel felt his hand reaching for his angel blade, hidden in his coat, but he stopped himself. Azazel was making a deal for John's life. He couldn't stop that. He didn't have the power to bring John back on his own, though he was sure Michael would if Azazel wouldn't.

Ramiel heard Dean's tires on the dirt road just as Mary made the deal to bring John back. Dean had the revolver aimed right at Azazel just as the Demon left Samuel's body, leaving the old man dead on the road.

Two things happened at once: First, John took a deep breath as his eyes fluttered open and he stared around himself, bewildered. Then Castiel appeared beside Dean. Ramiel cowered lower into the underbrush, hoping not to be spotted. Castiel payed him no attention as he pressed his first two fingers to Dean's forehead and took him back to whatever year they had come from.

The next few minutes Mary spent trying to convince John of some story of what had happened. She didn't want to tell him the truth, which Ramiel could understand. Her story involved another man who had been stalking them from the woods, and her father saving them. Ramiel figured it was a good story, all things considered, and John couldn't exactly deny it. They worked together to get Samuel in the back of the car and took his body home so arrangements could be made.

"She's a tough one. I like her," Azazel said from behind Ramiel. "Apparently I'll have to kill her in ten years, but we'll see how that goes."

Ramiel stood and turned to face the Demon. "Azazel," he said, his voice catching in his throat. Now that he had a clear look at his brother, he could see how bad the damage was. His vessel wasn't in bad shape; a man a bit older than middle age, average height, easily overlooked; but his essence was dark, and his Grace threw a yellow glow about him, instead of glowing a bright blue as it should have.

"Hello Ramiel," Azazel said. When another moment of silent passed between them, he raised an eyebrow with an arrogant smile and asked, "What is it? Cat got your tongue?"

Ramiel grasped for words. He was at a loss for what to say, so he said all he could. "Why?"

Azazel through his head back an laughed, an evil sound. "I need permission to enter their houses. The whole 'once an Angel' thing brings its own red-tape."

"But why, brother?" Ramiel was desperate for some kind of answer, some kind of sign his brother was still there somewhere.

Azazel laughed again. "It's been a long time since we've been brothers," he said. "To tell the truth, I prefer this gig. Lots more freedom. Except the whole deal with needing permission to do certain things. But the children will be worth it."

"What children? What are you planning?" Ramiel's voice finally found power, and he was growing angry.

"You didn't hear what I told that Dean character? I'm here picking strong parents for my next project. You see, the rest of the Generals are gone. We need more, and what better way than to take human children and twist their souls into nice little bows."

Ramiel felt his rage boil over, and before he could stop himself, he had his angel blade in his hand and was about to lunge at Azazel when he was thrown back into a tree, pinned there by Azazel's telekinetic power. He had kept hold of his blade though. He always kept hold of his blade.

"But you know what one, _special_ child will do?" Azazel continued in a low voice, standing very close to Ramiel. "The very best child will serve as Lucifer's vessel against Michael. And when Lucifer wins, well. The next generation of these children will be born, and the next, and the next. And they'll all be Generals. And you know what? There's nothing you can do to stop me."

Ramiel pushed against Azazel's force with his own, and managed to make a move against Azazel, but was thrown back with even more force than before.

Azazel _tsk_ed at him. "You've been down here since the Flood and you're _still _trying to fight Heaven's battles? They threw you out! Live a little," Azazel said, confused and annoyed by his brother's actions. "You aren't an Angel anymore."

"I am an Angel," Ramiel said, his voice strained against Azazel's power. "As long as I have my Grace, I am an Angel."

"Yes, I suppose," Azazel said thoughtfully, studying Ramiel. "And yet, here you are. On Earth while Heaven is closed to you." Azazel dropped his hold on his brother and shoved him to the side. "Look at you. Even your wings are useless." Here he spread his own wings, dull yellow where they had once been bright gold, with sickly feathers, ill looking things, but they obeyed him. "Come now, _brother,_" contempt dripped from the word, "let's see your wings."

Ramiel stood tall, refusing to give in to the pang of jealousy he felt that Azazel, now a General of Hell instead of an Angel, still had usable wings. Ramiel stared his former brother straight in the eyes as he spread his aching wings. They hadn't been stretched in centuries, and they were stiff and sore, but Ramiel didn't notice, _refused _to notice. His wings were thin and a dull gold, the feathers (or those that were still hanging on) were broken and burned. He held them behind him in defiance of the Demon standing in front of him.

Azazel laughed when he saw Ramiel's wings. "We were great once, you and I," he said, his face smiling but his eyes hard. "And now here we are. I might be a Demon, but I'm still great. And I have a purpose. What do you have?" Azazel stepped close to Ramiel, their noses almost touching. "You're no Angel," he said in a voice as hard and cold as stone. "You're nothing."

With that, Azazel was gone, and Ramiel was standing in a clearing, his pitiful wings spread behind him.

Ramiel wanted to believe Azazel's words hadn't hurt him, but they rang in his ears as he folded his wings within his vessel again. "I am an Angel," he told himself as he climbed into his car. "I _am _an Angel." He had a promise to Gabriel, and he planned to keep it. With Azazel gone, Mary and John would be safe. Besides, Gabriel was right; Michael wouldn't let anything stand in the way of his Apocalypse. And neither would Lucifer.

Not even John and Mary needed him.

"_I am an Angel,_" Ramiel said again, forcing conviction he didn't feel into his words.

Maybe if he said them enough, he would believe them. Maybe if he said them enough, they would be true.


	8. The Wings of Heaven

Ramiel tried to keep his promise to Gabriel. He left Lawrence; he drove until he hit the west coast and then headed north. He stopped in Washington, but the rain didn't help improve his mood, so he left again. He wasn't sure where he was going, so he just drove until he needed to stop to refuel.

For five years he managed to stay away. Gabriel was right and he knew it; John and Mary didn't need his protection. Still, he couldn't help but worry about them.

And it was for that reason that Ramiel ended up back in Lawrence in 1978. He told himself he would just pass through, just to check on John and Mary, and then he would leave again. Of course, he knew he was lying to himself, but he felt the need to justify it. And if Gabriel passed over and saw him, he didn't stop in to say hi.

Ramiel was only in town a week when he felt a new presence. An Angel. He was immediately on high alert; Angels were still under orders to remain in Heaven, as far as he knew. And to make things worse, it was only a few hours later when he felt another Angel drop in, this one with passengers. This was too much, and Ramiel immediately get to his car and parked down the street from the Winchester house.

In his week here, Ramiel had discovered that Mary and John had gotten married, and were doing well for themselves so far. John was doing well at the garage and they had their own home. Ramiel had been pleased to learn this; Mary was finally free of hunting and getting the normal life she so desperately wanted.

But now, with two Angels down from Heaven, Ramiel was worried that something was going to go very very wrong. It didn't matter to him that Michael wanted his Apocalypse more than anything, if two Angels were here against orders, then something was going to happen.

When early evening came around, a blue car turned onto the street and parked across from the Winchester house. Ramiel watched as two me stepped out, and was shocked to see that he recognized one of them as Dean Winchester. That must mean that the taller one was his brother Sam. But what were they doing here? Castiel must have brought them back, as he had brought Dean back five years ago, and that explained one Angel, but why were they here?

Sam and Dean stopped in the street, and appeared to be arguing. Ramiel felt bad for doing it, but he leaned closer to his car window and concentrated, listening.

"What exactly are we gonna march up there and tell them?" Dean was asking.

"Um, the truth?" Sam said, as if this were obvious.

"What, that their sons are back from the future to save them from an Angel? Gone Terminator? Come on, those movies haven't even come out yet."

Ramiel recoiled. Save them from an Angel? He didn't understand what the Terminator thing was referring to, but it didn't sound good.

Sam and Dean made their way up to the house as Ramiel tried to work out the context of this situation. How much time had passed on Dean's timeline between 1973 and 1978? And what exactly had happened that an _Angel _would want to kill their parents? If Michael was so caught up on his death match with Lucifer, he wouldn't stand for John and Mary being killed, not before Sam and Dean were born. Which meant that the other Angel Ramiel had felt had come back to this time without orders from Michael. But then where was Michael in all of this?

Ramiel closed his eyes and listened to his brothers and sisters speaking in Heaven. There was a bunch of chatter, but he couldn't pick out anything that was related to this situation. So Michael didn't know what was going on down here. Which left him back at square one. He sighed and opened his eyes. At the moment, he couldn't sense any danger. Both of the Angels who were here were in town. They were both powerful, and Ramiel was sure that one of them was Castiel. And if it was Castiel, then it was the other Angel that was the danger to the Winchesters.

Ramiel was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when John left the house. He snapped back to the present when he noticed Sam, Dean, and Mary rush out of the house and into the car Sam and Dean had arrived in. The engine came to life and they sped down the road, looking worried. Ramiel didn't like the look of that, so he followed, but at a more reasonable speed. He didn't want them to see him as a threat, so he followed their trail into town instead of following close behind.

Almost everything in town was closed, so there weren't many places to park. Ramiel settled for parking beside the curb down the street from the garage where John worked when he spotted the cars parked outside it. He could tell there was an Angel inside, and he didn't really want to be near him or her.

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright light, and shock wave rippled out from the garage, and Ramiel felt himself pressed against his seat. He was far enough away that the sigil didn't send him away, but he could see the Angel that had been inside wasn't so lucky. As she was cast away, he caught a glimpse of her face, and was surprised to see Anna. But that didn't make sense. Anna was a soldier taking orders from Michael and Raphael. And she wanted John and Mary Winchester dead?

The future must be in worse shape than Ramiel had originally thought.

A moment later, the Winchesters, all four of them, climbed into John's car and drove away. Ramiel followed, keeping an eye out for Anna, since he was sure she would be coming back. Possibly with backup.

John pulled the car up to a cabin a few miles outside of town. It was in the middle of nowhere, really. Ramiel continued further down the road before pulling his car over to the treeline and making his way back to the cabin on foot, taking a route through the trees so he could remain hidden. He didn't want to get too close, but he also didn't want to abandon them completely.

When he could see the cabin again, he was immensely grateful that he had remained within the cover of the trees. Ahead of him stood Anna, giving instructions to another Angel. Ramiel recognized this newcomer as Uriel, and he heard something about Anna giving Uriel the chance to kill the people who would kill him in the future before they got the chance. Uriel seemed on board.

Ramiel was at a loss for what to do. He didn't think he'd be of much use. Sure, he had an Angel blade, but trying to keep track on innocents and fight off two powerful Angels wasn't something he was in practice for, and he doubted the Winchesters would take too much time to differentiate him from Anna and Uriel in the heat of a fight.

So, as Anna and Uriel vanished, Ramiel did the only thing he could think to do: he prayed.

He knelt in the trees and bowed his head, eyes closed and hands clasped together in front of him. "Michael," he said. "It's Ramiel." Here he paused, thinking this was one of the strangest things he'd ever done, but there was no other way to help, so he continued. "Look, Michael, I'm sure you want nothing to do with me, but the Winchesters are in trouble. There is an Angel here, Anna, from the future to kill them. Uriel has directly disobeyed orders and come to Earth and taken a vessel in order to aid her. Sam and Dean will never be born if they can help it." Ramiel looked up abruptly when he heard the sound of glass shattering, only to see John Winchester thrown forcibly through a window and land hard on the ground. Sounds of fighting echoed from the house.

And suddenly, there was a bright light streaming down from Heaven. Ramiel could hear his voice, speaking to John, asking permission to use him as a vessel. John nodded, said yes, and the light rushed toward him, entering his body.

Then John was standing, but it wasn't John. It was Michael. He entered the house, and Ramiel dared to approach, watching through the windows. The first thing he saw was Michael touch Mary's forehead, rendering her unconscious. Anna and Uriel were nowhere to be seen. Dean didn't look too thrilled to see Michael, which struck Ramiel as odd.

The conversation didn't last long. Ramiel was able to gather that Dean wasn't willing to be Michael's vessel, and wasn't on board with having the Apocalypse happen at all. And Ramiel thought he heard something about Mary dying, which he found upsetting. Though he supposed that made sense, seeing as she had made that deal with Azazel five years ago. He must have come to collect when Dean was a child.

Just before Michael sent the young man back, he told Dean that in the end, he would be the vessel, because it was his destiny. Michael always had had a thing for destiny. He had always been a little too loyal for his own good, as far as Ramiel was concerned.

When Sam and Dean were back in their own time, Michael looked around the room, as if considering what had just happened. Then he smirked to himself. "Ramiel," he called. "Show yourself."

Ramiel was a little caught off guard, but he entered the house and found himself face-to-face with Michael. "Brother," he said by way of greeting.

Michael snorted. "We are not brothers," he said, sending a pang through Ramiel's heart. "But I suppose I should thank you for praying to me."

"You're welcome, I guess," Ramiel said, trying to keep his voice even.

"I'll deal with Uriel when I get back to Heaven, but first I want to know something," Michael said.

"Anything, brother," Ramiel said. He referred to Michael as his brother partly to force himself to continue to believe it, and partly because he knew it would bother Michael.

An annoyed look crossed Michael's face, but he decided against addressing the issue. "What were you doing here?" he asked instead.

Ramiel shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I've grown fond of the Winchesters. I was in town and felt the presence of two Angels and two people who hadn't been here a moment before. The people were Sam and Dean, and one of the Angels was Anna."

"And the other Angel?" Michael pressed.

"I can't be sure. I never saw him. But Dean was sent back to nineteen seventy-three, and when he was here then, he was speaking with Castiel. I can only assume Castiel brought Sam and Dean here to fight Anna."

"But you never saw Castiel?"

Ramiel shook his head. "I imagine he was weakened by bringing two others back with him. But I'm certain that if it was him, he meant no harm to John and Mary."

"Hmm," Michael said, his face thoughtful. "Castiel is still here then?"

"I assume so," Ramiel said, a little surprised. "He's still in town, as far as I know."

"And the young Winchesters, when did they arrive?"

"Earlier this afternoon."

"So Castiel will still be weak," Michael said, mostly to himself. Then he sighed and looked up at Ramiel. "I want you to find him and help him get back to whatever time he came from."

"Help him? I don't know that _I'm _strong enough to make the jump. I won't be able to pull him through."

"Lend him what strength you have then," Michael snapped. "There's no sense having him here and interrupting the timeline any more than he has."

"He helped save your vessel," Ramiel pointed out, trying to stay calm.

"Which is why I want him sent back. And you _will _help him get back. Helping Heaven is the least you can do to repay what you've done. Now go. I have my own mess to clean up." Michael's expression was angry, but he turned his back on Ramiel, effectively dismissing him.

"Oh, Ramiel," Michael said just as Ramiel reached the door.

"Yes?" Ramiel asked, trying to hide the anger in his voice.

"I will be keeping a much closer eye on the Winchesters. You are not to be anywhere near them."

Ramiel felt his body tense. "And if I am?"

Michael chuckled. "If you are, I will have to kill you."

Ramiel turned to face his brother. "Then you might as well kill me now."

"I am sparing you so you may get Castiel back to his own time, and because you alerted me that my orders had been disobeyed. I suggest you take it and be on your way."

It took all his strength to leave quietly, but Ramiel left and made his way back to his car, feeling his temper boil. It had been somewhere around three thousand years since he had fallen, and he had caused no trouble since he had been on Earth. If anything, he had helped. But Michael refused to see it, because a Fallen Angel without his wings wasn't worth paying attention to. If Ramiel had had even half of his former power, he would have taken a swing at Michael, even though he knew it was unwise.

Ramiel's temper had cooled when he reentered Lawrence, and he parked his car in an empty lot. Without his anger burning in him, he just felt an ache of sadness. He wasn't allowed near the Winchesters anymore. He wasn't even much of an _Angel _anymore, much as he hated it. But he swore that he would be an Angel again, one day. If it was the last thing he did.

His search for Castiel went smoothly, since Castiel was now the only unwarded Angel in town. He was in a small hotel in a suite on the third floor. Ramiel entered easily and found Castiel unconscious on the bed. His Grace was dim, needing time to recuperate. Ramiel wasn't going to let him have time, though. He was going to lend him enough power to make the jump back to his own time as soon as possible.

"Castiel," Ramiel said, shaking the other Angel gently. When Castiel didn't answer, he shook him a bit rougher.

Castiel opened his eyes weakly, but when he saw who was leaning over him, he sat bolt upright and had his blade in his hand.

"Whoa," Ramiel said, jumping backwards, holding his hands up to show they were empty. "I come in peace."

"What do you want?" Castiel demanded.

"To help you get back home. Sam and Dean are already there," Ramiel said.

"What? What happened?" Castiel asked.

"Long story. I'm sure they can explain when you get back. The short version is that Michael showed up and saved the day, sent them packing. He sent me to help you get back."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and studied Ramiel. "Who are you? Your face is familiar."

Ramiel felt another pang in his chest. Castiel didn't remember him. "My name is Ramiel. I fell with the other Watchers," he said.

"Oh, right," Castiel said, dropping his gaze.

An awkward silence settled over them. Ramiel gathered himself and said, "You are weak. I can lend you the strength you need to get back to your own time."

Castiel shook his head. "I don't have enough strength. I'm cut off from Heaven."

Of all the protests Castiel could have made, this was not one Ramiel had even considered. "Cut off? You mean you've fallen?"

"Not exactly," Castiel said, meeting Ramiel's gaze again. "I've broken allegiance with Heaven. I'm still an Angel, but I'm weakened."

"And I should have enough to lend you to get you back to your own time. It isn't much, but you can worry about recuperation there."

"You are weak, brother," Castiel said. As beat up as Ramiel had become, he felt as if someone had breathed new life into him.

"I'll be fine," Ramiel assured him.

Castiel shook his head. "Your Grace is dim," he said.

"So is yours," Ramiel pointed out. "Mine will stay that way; I've been away from home, almost for too long. I can't make a jump at all, but you can. You can take whatever strength I have left. I don't mind the thought of becoming human. I'm almost there anyway."

Castiel studied Ramiel for a long time before nodding. "Alright," he said.

Ramiel crossed the room again to stand in front of his brother. "When you get back to wherever you're going, and your strength returns, find me. I can hear the other Angels' voices, so I will hear you if you call for me. I'd like to know you got back."

"And if you aren't there?" Castiel asks.

Ramiel shrugged. "If I don't answer, I've probably died. Or become human. I'm not sure my warding would hold if I became human," Ramiel said thoughtfully. "If it doesn't, then you'll have an even easier time finding me."

Castiel nodded. "I'll find you."

"And I will wait patiently," Ramiel said. He touched his first two fingers to his brother's forehead and opened a channel between them, sending his own strength across to Castiel. He collapsed after a moment, drained. He assumed his Grace was almost extinguished, and Castiel helped him get on the bed. He wouldn't be moving for a few days.

"Thank you," Castiel said, his Grace a bit brighter. Just bright enough, Ramiel thought, to jump to where he needed to.

"Any time," Ramiel said. He watched Castiel disappear before allowing the darkness to overtake him.


	9. Status Report

Ramiel wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally opened his eyes again. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, getting his bearings again, trying to remember what had happened.

"Well look who's finally awake."

Ramiel started at the sound of someone else's voice and nearly fell off the bed in his attempt to get up and grab his blade. He ended up sitting so quickly his vision swam.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of here?" Gabriel asked, seemingly unconcerned with his brother's current state of being.

"Yes, you did," Ramiel said, his voice hoarse from disuse. "I was passing by and wanted to stop in to check on things."

"Does that have anything to do with Michael's little visit?"

Ramiel tried to detect some kind of emotion on Gabriel's face, but couldn't find any. "Do you know what happened?" Ramiel finally asked.

"I know Michael was here," Gabriel said. When he saw the confusion on Ramiel's face, he elaborated, "You think the most powerful Angel in Heaven stopping in for a visit for the first time in a couple thousand years is something I wouldn't notice?"

"Do you know about the others too?"

"Others?" Gabriel's brow knit in confusion. "I just knew Michael was down here."

"Well, it's a long story," Ramiel sighed.

"It'd better be a good one. I came after Michael left to try to find out why he was here and all I find is you with a shred of your Grace left," Gabriel said, settling back in a chair to get comfortable. "Talk."

Ramiel sighed and told Gabriel everything. About coming back to town; about feeling two Angels and two passengers appearing out of nowhere; about Anna trying to kill John and Mary Winchester; everything. Gabriel was a good audience, listening quietly and attentively.

"I told you you didn't need to worry about them," Gabriel said when Ramiel had finished.

Ramiel wasn't sure how to react to that. "Did you miss the part where _I had to tell Michael that the Winchesters were in trouble_?"

Gabriel waved the question off. "Michael would have shown up sooner rather than later. Uriel may not be that high up on the food chain anymore, but he disobeyed direct orders from Michael. I'm actually sorry I wasn't in Heaven when Michael got back to see how that played out, but Michael would have been down in the next few minutes. And you act like he doesn't have the power to bring the Winchesters _back _if he needed to."

"The last time John Winchester died, Mary made a deal with a Demon, with _Azazel, _to bring him back. And according to her son, she dies a very preventable death because Azazel didn't _want _her soul. Where was Michael in all of that?"

Gabriel sighed. "I know you haven't been to Heaven in a long, _long, _time, but you seem to have forgotten that her deal with Azazel _needed _to be made."

"How could I have possibly known that?" Ramiel asked. "The last time I was in Heaven, the story didn't involve Azazel at all, and Sam and Dean were not hunters. They are very obviously hunters right now."

Gabriel paused, gathering thoughts that hadn't been touched in centuries. "No," he decided, brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I suppose you wouldn't know." He looked up at Ramiel, a small frown on his face. "After you and the other Watchers," he gestured vaguely, not really wanting to put it into words, "well, you know, did what you did...the timeline was altered. We all knew from when Lucifer was locked in his Cage that the fight would involve the Winchesters, somehow. And then when the Watchers fell, the events that would bring the Winchesters to the point of being vessels changed. The deal with Azazel was part of that. Mary dying is part of that. Though from there, the specific events are fuzzy, but at some point the Righteous Man will break the first seal in Hell, and then the fun begins."

"But Michael didn't know about what happened yesterday?" Ramiel looked around, suddenly uncertain. "Was that yesterday? How long have I been out?"

"Two days," Gabriel said simply, looking at his hands clasped in his lap. He sounded tired. "And no, Michael didn't know. That wasn't part of it. Azazel's deal was, because one of the Winchester boys is to be Lucifer's vessel. And Lucifer's vessel needs to be strengthened with Demon blood, so he needed to be one of the kids Azazel starts to use for whatever it is he's planning."

They were silent for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts.

"So what now?" Ramiel finally asked, his voice quiet.

"Now?" A wicked grin spread across Gabriel's face, his somber mood from just a moment ago effectively erased from his features. "Now you get the hell out of here and go have some fun for once. The clock's really ticking now."

Ramiel stared at his hands. He really didn't want to do anything. He probably could have sat on this bed for the next thirty years and thought nothing of it.

"Hey," Gabriel said, his voice and features softening. "You went from Archangel to Fallen Angel to drifter to hunter. You've done a lot in your life. You might as well go enjoy the last few years before the Apocalypse."

"And what do you suggest I do?" Ramiel asked, looking to Gabriel for guidance.

Gabriel shrugged. "I'm not here to tell you what to do. But if I were you, I'd find a small town on one of the coasts and relax. Read a book. No hunting, no stress. Maybe the occasional minor miracle if you're feeling it. Unwind for a while. You deserve it."

"I'm not sure I deserve anything," Ramiel said quietly, looking away again.

"Hey. Don't talk like that," Gabriel said, his voice stern but soft. "You do deserve it. You've been serving your sentence, and to be honest, I'd have given you your wings back a long time ago if it were up to me."

Ramiel looked up sadly. He spread his wings behind himself, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe he was hoping Gabriel would restore them.

Gabriel didn't flinch at the sight, though he would have liked to. Seeing his brother's wings looking so haggard sent a pang through his chest. He almost felt guilty for his own wings. "You deserve better, Ramiel," was all he said.

Ramiel looked around the room, unsure of what to focus on. He was still weak from lending his strength to Castiel, but he thought he could get around okay.

"Why don't you get going?" Gabriel suggested after a few minutes had passed in silence.

Ramiel nodded, folding his wings again. "How long?" he asked.

Gabriel didn't ask for clarification. "About thirty years."

Ramiel sighed as he stood. "That isn't long at all," he said.

"Nope," Gabriel agreed, standing with his brother. "But it gives you enough time to spend on yourself instead of helping people."

"Our purpose is to help people, Gabriel," Ramiel said tiredly.

"And you've helped them for three thousand years. They can help themselves for a while," Gabriel countered.

Ramiel's shoulders still sagged, but Gabriel's answer made him feel a little better.

"Now get outta here," Gabriel said, a small smile on his face as he vanished.

Ramiel stood up straighter and rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening the stiffness that had settled there in his two days of unconsciousness. He was vaguely aware that the scene outside the window was overcast and gloomy as he exited the room.

A light rain had begun to fall when Ramiel reached his car. There was a parking ticket on his windshield, but he tore it up without a second thought. As he climbed in, he tried to think of a place he wanted to go. There wasn't much he hadn't seen in his wanderings, and in the end he decided to just get on the interstate and head east until he made up his mind.


	10. Days That Were

The bar wasn't very crowded, but it was still early; happy hour didn't even start for another twenty minutes. Ramiel wasn't even sure why he kept coming to the run-down place. He figured the drinks were okay, but he still hadn't gotten to a point where the tastes of human food and drink were pleasant enough that he actually craved them like Gabriel did. The music that played through speakers set in the corners of the room seemed to be the same fifteen songs played over and over, which got old very quickly. It was clean though, and Ramiel had to admit that that was preferable.

This run-down place was in a slightly less run-down town on the coast of North Carolina. Ramiel had arrived about a month ago, having spent a year or so wandering up and down the coast until Gabriel had gotten fed up with him.

"I thought I told you to relax and unwind," Gabriel had said. Ramiel had been on a walk through Charleston, taking a short break from his drive to relieve the tension that had risen up from sitting still in a car for so long.

"I'm working on it," Ramiel had replied.

"It's been more than a year. You aren't working on it."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Ramiel had snapped.

"The next time you need to stop in a town for gas, stay. I don't care where it is. Take care of yourself for once."

Ramiel had taken his brother's advice, though grudgingly. He still hadn't wanted to stop moving, but he had figured Gabriel was trying to help him. So far, Ramiel couldn't say he disliked the town. It was a close knit community, so his arrival had caused a bit of a stir, but he had been accepted all the same. He had gotten a job working night-shift security at a nearby shipyard, but that was mainly for something to do. The house he had found for himself was small and had been a bit of a mess when he moved in, but in his month living there he had gotten it fixed up, and he supposed it was a comfortable building; there was a modestly sized bedroom and bathroom, the kitchen was probably a little small (he couldn't be sure since he had never used one for any extended period of time), and the den was a decent size. Ramiel usually used his spare time to read any number of novels, and since he didn't need to sleep or eat, he usually had quite a bit of spare time.

As happy hour officially began, Ramiel watched the people trickle into the bar. Usually the same people came in in the same order. Nothing much changed from day to day in this town, but Ramiel enjoyed watching the people all the same. It was comforting to watch friends greet each other at the end of the day and begin to swap stories, some of them told for the thousandth time. It didn't even seem to matter to anyone that this was a bar; people of all walks of life came in to socialize at the end of the day. There was a mechanic who vaguely reminded Ramiel of John Winchester, if John were about twenty years older, but there was also a teacher who had to be in her sixties. People who owned small shops in town would come, and so would those who worked in the city half an hour away. It wasn't even uncommon to see teenagers hanging around, though everyone was sure to keep any alcohol away from them.

There was one young woman in her late twenties Ramiel had begun to watch for. She was one of the few whose stories Ramiel didn't yet know, but she usually came in around seven with a small group of friends, though she didn't drink much. Ramiel hadn't even noticed he had begun to keep an eye out for her until one day when she hadn't come in and he had worried about what had kept her away.

Ramiel was surprised when today she came in just before six. She noticed him looking at her from the bar and ducked her head, turning to her friend and gesturing to a table in a far corner. Ramiel quickly looked away, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Instead, he looked down at his glass, listening to the stories being told around him. He had become familiar with the people here, but his interaction with them was limited, as it always was when he settled somewhere. He didn't talk much unless someone spoke to him first, at least until he had gotten to know a few people. It was always harder to leave later when he was close to anyone.

"Um, hey," someone said, just behind him, effectively pulling him from his thoughts.

Ramiel turned to see the young woman he watched for standing behind him. "Hi," Ramiel said, a little surprised. "Can I help you with something?"

The woman shifted, seeming a bit anxious. "It's just that every time I come in here, you're sitting in the same seat, and you're never sitting with anyone," she trailed off, looking around as if she didn't know what to say after that. She was dressed in jeans and a loose fitting shirt, and Ramiel thought that he had never seen anyone look so enchanting while dressed so casually.

"I'm new to town," Ramiel supplied. "I haven't met anyone to drink with."

"Well, would you mind if I joined you?" the woman asked, looking up at him shyly.

"I would be delighted to have your company," Ramiel said, gesturing to the open seat on his right. "May I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," the woman said, taking her seat cautiously.

When she had ordered, Ramiel shifted in his seat so he was facing her. "What may I call you?" he asked.

"Rina," she said. "And you?"

"Caleb," Ramiel said. He had heard that name a while ago and had decided he like it.

"Well Caleb, what brought you to this tiny old place?" Rina asked. "It's not exactly a place that attracts many newcomers."

"I needed a change of scenery," Ramiel said with a shrug. "I've always had a soft spot for little places."

"Yeah? Where are you from?"

"Well, it didn't have a name when I was there last," Ramiel said, deciding to tell her as much of the truth as he could. "It's a little place in Jordan," he elaborated, thinking of the place he had landed when he had been cast out of Heaven.

"Jordan? Like, out in the Middle East?"

"That is the one," Ramiel said, taking a sip of his drink. "This is surprising?" he asked, noticing the look on her face.

"Well- I mean why would you come here?" Rina asked, not believing why anyone would choose such a rundown place.

"I came here a long time ago. I had heard stories of America, and I was curious to see what it was like," Ramiel said with a slight shrug. That was certainly the truth.

"So you just dropped everything and left?"

"Yes. I've been to the big cities, but there is too much activity there for my liking. I like places like this," Ramiel said, making a gesture with his hand that encompassed the whole town.

"Have you seen many places then?" Rina asked, taking a sip of her drink, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"A great many places," Ramiel said, nodding as a small smile spread across his face. "And you?"

Rina shook her head. "I've lived here my whole life," she said. "I went to Florida once to visit family, but other than that, I haven't gone anywhere. I'd like to though."

"I hope you get the chance to," Ramiel said. "The world is an interesting place."

Rina smiled down at her glass. "Well, for now I'm stuck here."

"Oh, I wouldn't say you're stuck anywhere," Ramiel said thoughtfully. "You _could _leave anytime you want to."

"Well, what I do makes that a little difficult," Rina said, looking back up at him with a small laugh.

"What do you do?" Ramiel asked curiously.

"I teach at the local middle school," Rina said. "It's not glamorous, but I like it."

"Good," Ramiel said.

"Good?"

"Well, if you like what you do, it doesn't feel so much like work, does it?"

Rina's smile grew. "No, I guess it doesn't."

There followed a brief silence, and Ramiel used it to get his thoughts in order. He wasn't sure what was going on here with Rina, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. It had been a long time since he'd been close to anyone who wasn't Gabriel, and he liked the feeling.

"I hate to cut our time short, but I have to be getting to work," Ramiel said, checking the time.

"Oh," Rina said, looking disappointed.

Ramiel smiled at her. "I don't mean to be forward, but would you mind accompanying me for dinner this weekend?" he asked. He wasn't sure where the offer came from, but he was sure that he wanted to see Rina again.

"I would love to!" Rina said, her face lighting up once more. She started digging around in her bag and found a pen and pad of paper. "Let me just give you my number, and we can work out a time later."

"Of course," Ramiel said, folding the paper carefully and tucking it into his pocket when she handed it to him. "Thank you for your company. I look forward to seeing you again," he added as he stood to leave and threw a few dollars on the counter to pay for the drinks.

"I look forward to seeing you too," Rina said, a smile still lighting her face.

Ramiel had that smile on his mind for the next few days. He tried to focus on other things, but Rina was always there, at the back of his thoughts.

When the day of his date with Rina arrived, Ramiel wasn't sure what to do with himself. He had never been out with anyone. Sure, he had had friends and acquaintances and coworkers, but he had never been out with only one other person. The prospect was surprisingly daunting.

He settled on dressing in slacks and a button-down shirt with black shoes. He briefly considered just leaving town and not dealing with it. It wasn't that he didn't like Rina; far from it. And that was the problem. The last time he had allowed himself to be close to a human woman was three thousand years ago, and that had ended with his two Nephilim children and his human love to be destroyed in the Flood, along with the rest of the planet. The memory was almost enough for Ramiel to cut his losses and get out of town. Almost. The last thing he needed was for Michael to have another reason to want him dead, but he couldn't get his mind off of Rina.

Ramiel finally decided he was over-thinking things. He was going to go out and enjoy himself. He would be careful. And he wasn't going to give Michael another reason to kill him. So Ramiel took a deep breath to steady himself and made his way to the address Rina had given him.

"You made it!" Rina said when she opened the door, a grin spreading across her face. She was dressed in a simple blue dress and low heels.

"I wouldn't miss it," Ramiel said, smiling back at her as he stepped aside to let her exit and lock her door.

"Let's go," Rina said happily when her door was locked. Ramiel turned and held his arm out to her, making her giggle in delight as she took it. When she spotted his car, her eyes grew wide. "Whoa," she said quietly.

"What is it?" Ramiel asked, looking around to make sure there was nothing suspicious lurking in the shadows.

"Nothing," Rina said with a small laugh at Ramiel's sudden alertness. "It's just that you don't normally see cars like that around a place like this."

Ramiel looked back at his car. It was a black Mustang he'd bought new in '65 when his previous car had finally broken down.

"I like it," Rina said as Ramiel held the door open for her.

Ramiel climbed into the car and started heading north, toward the city. Rina had recommended a restaurant there that was on the coast, and since Ramiel didn't know the area, he had agreed. Besides, it wasn't hurting anything to go where she wanted to go; it wasn't like Ramiel would be able to taste the food much anyway.

Their table was on a patio behind the restaurant that overlooked the ocean. A cool breeze came off the waves, and the gentle lapping at the shore made a soothing rhythm.

"This is a lovely place," Ramiel commented as they looked over the menu.

"It is," Rina agreed. "My parents brought me and my brother here when we were little. This was where they had their first date." Rina glanced up shyly, gauging Ramiel's reaction.

"Then it must be a special place as well," Ramiel said with a small smile.

After they had taken their orders, they sat in companionable silence for a moment, looking out over the waves washing gently over the shore.

"Would you tell me about your family?" Ramiel asked. "You mentioned a brother. I'd like to know about him."

Rina laughed quietly. "Well, I don't know how interesting my stories about my family are," she said.

Ramiel met her gaze. "They're your stories. Of course they're interesting."

Rina grinned and glanced down bashfully before meeting his eyes again. "Fine," she said. And she talked about the adventures she and her brother, Daniel, had had in their backyard as children. She spoke affectionately of him. He was a year younger than her, she explained, and she had always felt a certain responsibility for him. She helped him with his schoolwork, since bother of her parents worked long hours and couldn't always be around as much as they would have liked.

The arrival of the food interrupted their conversation for a moment as they both sampled their meals.

"What about you? Any family?" Rina asked.

Ramiel shrugged. "I never knew my mother," he said, which was technically true. He didn't have a mother. "I haven't heard from my father for many years."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rina said.

Ramiel shook his head. "It's fine. Really. I've been very close to my brother Gabriel. He and I both came to America at the same time and we would check in with each other every so often. He's had a grand old time here, and he'll readily admit it." Ramiel smiled at the thought of his brother. "He's been a lot of help in recent years as I was moving around. I felt lost, in a way, and he helped ground me again. He's the reason I stopped in your town, actually."

"Really?" Rina asked, more than a little surprised. "I thought you said you like small towns."

"I do," Ramiel confirmed. "But I couldn't stop moving. He made me promise to stop in the next town I needed to stop in and stay for a while. And I'm glad he did."

Rina giggled at that. "Me too," she said. She raised her glass in a toast. "To Gabriel," she offered.

Ramiel laughed, sure that Gabriel would hear this and be waiting for him when he got home, but he raised his glass anyway. "To Gabriel. Probably the best brother I could have asked for."

The rest of their dinner passed in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by a story of travels. Rina told Ramiel about when she had been to Florida as a child. Ramiel chose a story from recently when he had been in New York during one of his short breaks from wandering the east coast.

After dinner, they went for a walk on the beach, looking up at the stars and pointing out any constellations they could see, sometimes making one up on the spot as a joke. Ramiel decided he really liked the sound of Rina's laugh. He would point out an imagined constellation and come up with a story to go with it just to hear her laugh. He remembered when he had helped create the stars, and he made up a story to go with that as well.

"That one," he said, pointing to a random cluster of stars.

"What about that one?" Rina asked, the stars shining in her dark laughing eyes.

"That's Ramiel," he said.

"Oh? And who's Ramiel?" Rina teased.

"He's an Angel," Ramiel said mischievously. "He helped create the cosmos."

"Did he now?" Rina was laughing again.

"He did."

"Is he a nice Angel?" Rina asked, poking Ramiel in the ribs.

"How should I know? I've never met him."

Rina laughed again, a musical sound.

"This was fun," Rina said about an hour later as Ramiel walked her to her door.

"It was," Ramiel agreed. "I hope you'll allow me to take you out again sometime."

"I would like nothing more than that," Rina said, grinning at him.

"It's been a pleasure," Ramiel said, gently taking Rina's hand. He held it gingerly for a moment before bending to kiss it.

Rina giggled. "Thank you," she said, taking her hand back after a moment so she could open her door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rina," Ramiel said, savoring the taste of her name on his lips.

When he stepped inside his house later that night and turned the light on, he saw a familiar figure lounging on his sofa.

"You're toasting me now?" Gabriel asked as he stood, his gaze curious and laughing. "I'm not complaining, of course, just intrigued by this interesting turn of events."

Ramiel's mouth turned up at the corners. "It was her idea," he said.

"I figured it must have been," Gabriel said. "You'd never willingly sing my praises otherwise."

"I don't know," Ramiel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. "You aren't so bad."

"I am brilliant," Gabriel said with feigned annoyance. Then he shook his head, as if remembering a point he had wanted to bring up. "You didn't actually tell her who you are, did you?"

"Of course not," Ramiel said, though he had debated it on the way back to town.

"Good," Gabriel said. "No point in going around outing yourself."

"I might," Ramiel admitted.

Gabriel sighed. "You realize that would involve all the uncomfortable questions?"

"I wouldn't expect this time to be any different than the other times someone found out," Ramiel said with a shrug.

"She could be angry with you for not telling her."

"I expect that too."

Gabriel studied his brother. "You remember when I told you that you're too fond of humanity for your own good?"

"I remember every time you insult me," Ramiel said with a smirk.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that's an insult. But it's still true."

"So be it," Ramiel replied.

Gabriel sighed. "Just watch yourself, okay?"

"Always," Ramiel said.

A silence passed between them. Gabriel couldn't seem to decide if he wanted to say something or not. "I'm glad you found someone, I really am. It wasn't good for you to wander around alone like that," he finally got out.

"Thank you," Ramiel said.

"And I don't think it would kill you to toast me a little more often," Gabriel said, his eyes shining again.

Ramiel shook his head and chuckled. "Will you be toasting me at all?"

"Maybe. If it crosses my mind," Gabriel said noncommittally.

"So no?"

"Probably not."

"I expect nothing less from you Gabriel," Ramiel said, laughing.

"And I'm glad I'm living up to expectations," Gabriel said as he vanished again.


	11. Confrontation

As the weeks went by, Ramiel felt more and more human. He still had his Grace, but he could feel his humanity coming closer to the surface. Part of it was definitely caused by his being away from Heaven from so long, since he was more human in recent years than he had been just after he fell. But he was sure another part of it was caused by his increasing emotional investment in something so human as a relationship.

He saw Rina more and more. Everyday between the end of her workday and the beginning of his, they would sit in the bar and talk. Sometimes Rina would introduce him to others in town, and it wasn't long until Ramiel had his own circle of friends for the first time in a long time. On weekends they would always find something to do; sometimes they would go out for a movie and dinner, other times they would stay in and make dinner for themselves.

About a month after their first date, Ramiel took Rina dancing at a hall in the city, something she hadn't done recently but had wanted to. Ramiel had learned quite a few dances in his time, and dancing gave him a good excuse to hold her close. Rina, for her part, wasn't as bad a dancer as she claimed to be. She was able to keep up on a variety of dances, smiling the whole time. They had just finished a waltz when Ramiel asked if he could kiss her. Rina giggled and said yes, she would like that. So Ramiel had kissed her gently for a moment before the next dance started, reveling in the feeling of his lips against hers. It had been so long since he had felt this kind of physical closeness that he had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Ramiel met her family, and they all seemed to like him. He certainly liked them; they were kind, hardworking people and they greeted him with open arms. Rina was disappointed when Ramiel told them he wasn't sure they would be able to meet Gabriel.

"Gabriel isn't one to get wrapped up in things like this," Ramiel had said.

"You said you were close though," Rina had objected. "I'm sure he'd come for something like this."

Ramiel had sighed, relenting. "I'll check in with him," he had allowed. Of course, he never did. He thought bringing Gabriel down here would just further complicate things.

The weeks drew into years and Ramiel and Rina found a place to stay together. Ramiel had switched shifts so he worked during the day and could spend the evenings with Rina instead of having opposite schedules. He felt calm for once, not as if he had to keep moving.

But in the back of his mind, Ramiel knew he was getting closer to the point where he would have to leave. With his vessel not aging, it wouldn't be long before people started to notice that he still looked exactly the same as he had when he arrived, but he couldn't bring himself to care; Gabriel would have to force him away before he would willingly leave Rina. Even so, leaving was often what he thought about at night while she slept beside him. In the few short years he had known her, Rina had changed so much. She was no less beautiful, but her features were more defined and she carried herself a little straighter, much more confident in herself. If he had noticed these little changes in her, he was sure she had noticed the lack of changes in him, and that pained him. At some point she would mention it, she would notice that he was still the same while the world was changing. And when that day came, he would come up with an excuse to put her at ease, and he would leave while she was asleep. There was nothing else he could do without pulling her into his world, and he didn't want to do that to her.

So in the time he had left to share with her, he did everything he could for her. He took her to see places she had always wanted to visit: New York, Paris, London. She asked how he could swing all of it and he told her that money had never been an issue for him, which was true, seeing as all the money he had ever made before meeting her had gone to savings since he hadn't needed to pay for anything.

In the summer of 1985, not long after their five year anniversary, Ramiel came home from work around dinner time, as he usually did. He hung his coat on the peg by the door and looked around the entryway, thinking that the house seemed too quiet; Rina was usually humming to herself as she cooked at this point. Nothing, just silence.

"Rina?" Ramiel called, worried. He didn't move from the entryway, ready to grab his angel blade from his coat if necessary.

"Caleb!" Rina's response from upstairs.

Ramiel had begun regretting not telling her his real name about four years ago, but he had never been able to bring himself to correct that mistake, and now he was sure it was too late. "Where are you?" he asked, mounting the stairs.

"Right here," she said as she came down the stairs toward him, a grin on her face.

Ramiel smiled at her. "You look happy," he said.

"Of course I do, you're home," she said, throwing her arms around him.

"Is that so?" Ramiel said, kissing her cheek.

"I want to go out to dinner tonight," Rina said, pulling away to look into his face.

"Okay," Ramiel said, brow furrowing in confusion. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, nothing," Rina brushed the question off. "I just want to go out."

"Alright. Where should we go?" Ramiel turned and started heading back down the stairs.

"The place on the beach," Rina said, following him.

"Where we went the first time?" Ramiel asked, putting his coat back on.

"Yes," Rina said, her grin spreading.

"As you wish." Ramiel held the door open for her with a small smile on his face.

After they had finished their meal they walked along the beach, hand in hand, as they had on their first date. All through dinner Ramiel had tried to figure the reason for Rina's sudden desire to go out for dinner in the middle of the week, but she was very good at hiding her reasoning.

"Thank you for bringing me out here," Rina said.

"You don't have to thank me," Ramiel said, looking over at her. "I'll always give you want you want."

Rina blushed and giggled nervously, slightly chewing at her bottom lip.

Ramiel stopped and turned her gently so she was facing him. "Is something wrong?" he asked seriously.

"Nothing's wrong," Rina promised. "Far from it. Everything is great."

"What is?" Ramiel was still worried, despite Rina's light tone.

Rina grinned at him and bit her lip. She was excited and couldn't seem to find the right way to say what was on her mind.

"Rina?" Ramiel said, feeling a gnawing in his gut.

"I'm pregnant," Rina finally said, her whole face lighting up.

Ramiel felt his heart sink. He blinked at her for a moment. "You're..."

"We're going to have a baby!" Rina was practically bouncing in her excitement. "Isn't this wonderful?"

Ramiel managed to gather himself. He forced a smile, hoping it seemed genuine. "It is," he said.

Rina's face fell slightly, noticing his lack of enthusiasm. "Aren't you happy?" she asked. "I mean, I know we aren't married, but I didn't think that was an issue."

The hurt in her voice was enough to snap Ramiel into the moment. "No, of course it isn't," he said, letting his grin spread. "I'm thrilled. Just a little caught off guard is all."

Tears of joy filled Rina's eyes, and she wrapped her arms tightly around Ramiel. "This is perfect," she whispered.

Perfect wasn't exactly the word Ramiel would have used, but he held her close anyway, savoring the feeling of having her in his arms, safe.

Later that night, around midnight, Ramiel sat in the local church. He had never been in a church before, never seeing the need to be involved in any kind of church group. Besides, he was an Angel, and what did an Angel need to go to church for?

There were stained glass windows that would have bathed the room in color if the sun had been out. The pews weren't particularly comfortable, but they weren't uncomfortable either. Someone had left a bible on the pew where Ramiel sat, and he had opened it and read a few pages, reaching back in his memory to find the events the book described. He remembered much of it, but there were mistakes and gaps in the text, so he set it back on the pew. Really he was looking for a way to stall for time, even though he knew it would do him no good.

Finally, he sighed and leaned forward so his elbows rested on his thighs. He clasped his hands and rested his forehead on them. "Gabriel," he started, but then he paused. What was he even going to say? He knew he needed to talk to someone, and Gabriel was the only one he could talk to, but he didn't know how to start. Finally he sighed and started again. "Gabriel, I really need you to get down here. I have a problem."

"You know what I like about all the centuries before this one, now that I think about it?" Gabriel asked as he appeared on the pew beside Ramiel, popping a piece of chocolate in his mouth. He glanced over at his brother, as if expecting a guess. When none came, he said, "You didn't have as many problems. Or you did, but I didn't need to be the one to deal with them. I've seen you almost too much for my liking in the last decade alone." Gabriel clearly meant this as a joke, but when Ramiel's face didn't change from the anguished look he had been wearing before Gabriel's appearance, he relented. "What's the problem?"

Ramiel looked down, and then away, immediately sure that this was a horrible idea.

"Ramiel," Gabriel said. "What. Is. The. Problem?" He sounded more annoyed to be called and then not told than he was worried that there was a problem.

"It's..." Ramiel hesitated for another moment before saying, "It's Rina."

"Who?" Gabriel asked, furrowing his brow. "You mean that girl you were seeing? What, she leave you? That's not really my department."

Ramiel chuckled. "No, she didn't leave me." Ramiel kept his hands folded in front of him to try to keep them from shaking.

"Then what-" Gabriel's eyes grew wide as realization dawned on him. "You didn't."

Ramiel shrugged, not meeting his brother's eyes.

"Son of a bitch," Gabriel said as he stood. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not. Though I do wish I were."

"You're not going to let her go through with it?"

"What the hell Gabriel?" Ramiel stood as well. "What else do you expect me to do?"

"Get rid of it. Clear her memory of the whole thing," Gabriel said angrily. "You made it three _thousand_ years. And you blow it _now_?"

"It wasn't my _choice _for this to happen," Ramiel snapped.

"So get rid of it."

"I can't," Ramiel said. "Nephilim can't be aborted. Not without killing the mother. You know that."

Gabriel drew his angel blade. "Then kill her."

"I will do no such thing," Ramiel objected.

"Maybe you're too _human _to remember this, but the Nephilim are dangerous," Gabriel sneered. "When you and the other Watchers came and had your way with human women, your children were part of the reason for the Flood. The little bastards were rabid and had to be put down like wild dogs."

"And maybe you aren't human _enough _to realize that our Father has done some things that have done more harm than good," Ramiel snarled.

"The law against Nephilim was made to protect humanity," Gabriel countered. "And you have always loved humanity."

Ramiel surprised both of them with a laugh. "_You're _going to lecture _me _on laws? You're the one who's playing Trickster."

"You're claiming impersonating a Trickster is even with producing Nephilim."

"Were we not told to have pride in ourselves and always present ourselves as our Father's greatest warriors?" Ramiel tried to keep the condescension out of his voice. "I'm no longer a warrior. I don't act like I am. _You _on the other hand; you are still an Archangel, and you're playing less. You know how our Father is. He would kill both of us without a second thought for all of this."

Gabriel glared at his brother, but his grip on his blade loosened.

"A law is a law Gabriel," Ramiel said, his voice tired.

"And you expect me to just wish you well and forget about it?" Gabriel demanded.

Ramiel shook his head. "No I don't. I called you because I thought I needed to talk to someone. And it was a bad idea. You're right, I am too human, but I promise you, if you touch Rina or the child, I will kill you myself."

"Touchy touchy," Gabriel tsked, replacing his blade. "Fine, I won't hurt her."

"Thank you," Ramiel breathed.

"Don't thank me," Gabriel said. "You're going to tell her who you are and what this child means. And I'm going to be there to make sure you tell her that Nephilim grow into killers."

Ramiel debated Gabriel's offer for a moment. "Fine," he said through clenched teeth.

"Then lead the way, little brother," Gabriel said.

Gabriel rode shotgun in Ramiel's car, for no other reason than Ramiel was going to have to drive home anyway. The silence was tense.

As they pulled up to the house, Ramiel noticed that a downstairs light was on. "Dammit."

"Would you prefer to wake her up with this information?" Gabriel asked.

"Shut up Gabriel," Ramiel said, turning the car off and getting out.

When he opened the door and stepped inside, he saw Rina coming out of the living room at the back of the house.

"I woke up and you weren't there. Is everything okay?" Rina's voice was worried. When she spotted Gabriel behind Ramiel, she furrowed her brow and asked, "Who's this?"

"Rina," Ramiel said, "this is my brother Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Rina."

"Oh!" Rina said, the worry gone from her face. "So this is Gabriel."

"The one and only," Gabriel said, earning a dirty look from Ramiel. "Ramiel here told me the news and I had to get over as quick as I could."

"Who?" Rina asked, confused.

Ramiel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "There's a lot I need to tell you," he said to Rina. "I should have told you a long time ago."

"What do you need to tell me?" Rina asked, crossing her arms in front of herself. She was clearly nervous.

"Why don't we go sit down?" Ramiel suggested.

"You can tell me right now." Rina's voice was forceful, but her lower lip trembled.

"You're gonna want to sit down for this," Gabriel chimed in.

Rina still didn't look sure of the situation, but she led the way back to the living room and took a seat at one end of the sofa. Ramiel sat on the other end so he could face her comfortably and not crowd her out. Gabriel sat in the recliner that was angled toward the sofa, leaning on one of the armrests and watching with interest.

Ramiel took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together uncertainly. "I don't know where to start," he finally said.

"Start at the beginning," Gabriel said. "You know, when you and the rest of them broke rank and royally screwed mankind over."

"What is he talking about Caleb?" Rina asked.

Ramiel shot his brother a dirty look. "My name isn't Caleb," he said to Rina, as gently as he could. "My name is Ramiel."

"Like...the constellation you made up on our first date?" Confusion colored Rina's voice.

"The constellation was made up. I am not."

"You mean... You mean to tell me that you're _that _Ramiel? The one you told me about?" When Ramiel nodded, she added, "So you're an Angel? Like, God and Heaven and all that?"

"Not anymore," Gabriel piped up with a slight laugh.

"Gabriel. Shut up," Ramiel ordered.

"But if you're an Angel, and Gabriel is your brother, then...he's..._that _Gabriel?" Rina was struggling to keep up.

"The one and only," Gabriel said again, preening slightly.

"But what does he mean you aren't an Angel _anymore_?" Rina asked.

"Once, a long, _long_, time ago I was an Archangel. I was tasked with leading souls to judgement. I was the Angel of hope, which is a little Greek in this situation," Ramiel said thoughtfully. "Anyway, back before the Flood-"

"The Flood. Like Noah's Ark?"

"That's the one." Ramiel couldn't help feeling a little proud that she was catching on. "Before that happened, I came down from Heaven with two hundred of my brothers. We taught humanity knowledge our Father had declared was forbidden to them. We also," here Ramiel paused to gather himself. "Many of us also had children with human women."

"Is that bad?" Rina asked, her hands folding protectively over her middle.

"Yes," Ramiel said. "Our Father decided that with humanity having forbidden knowledge, and with Nephilim - the children of Angels and humans - running amok, he had to purge the planet. So he saved Noah and his family, and cast many of the Angels out of Heaven, myself included. Some begged forgiveness and were allowed back at lower ranks, others were imprisoned in Heaven's dungeons."

"So," Rina was clearly trying to make sense of all of this. "Are you an Angel or not?"

"Yes and no," Ramiel answered after a moment of consideration. "I have the abilities of an Angel, though I'm greatly weakened from my time down here and my lack of connection with Heaven. But my wings are broken, and I'm not allowed home."

A few minutes passed in silence. Gabriel watched with more interest than was probably necessary, but Ramiel was studying Rina, waiting for some kind of response. Rina was sitting quietly, staring at her knees while her arms were wrapped protectively around herself.

"Are you okay?" Ramiel asked, reaching slowly for Rina.

"Don't touch me," she said, leaning away from him.

Ramiel felt a pang in his chest, but he pulled his hand back. What had he done?

"Why are Nephilim so bad?" Rina finally asked, turning to face Ramiel. "That's what you called them? Nephilim?"

"Yes," Ramiel said sadly. "The Nephilim don't usually feel any remorse for their actions, so they tend to be dangerous. On top of that, they're stronger than most Angels, and they can withstand an Angel's attacks."

"Attacks?" Rina asking in a small quavering voice.

"Luckily the Angels are under orders to stay in Heaven," Gabriel said.

"What? Why?" Rina asked. "And then why are you down here?"

"That's unimportant," Ramiel interjected before Gabriel could add anything. "The Angels will stay away unless they know the child exists. And Nephilim can see an Angel's true form, so they have a bit of an advantage."

Rina nodded and bit her lip. "What if I don't want to put the child through being hunted?" she asked, not looking at him.

Ramiel felt his heart sink. "What do you mean?"

"What if I don't want to have the child?" Rina met his eyes with tears in hers.

"A Nephilim cannot be aborted," Ramiel said, feeling tears fill his eyes as well. "Not without the death of the mother."

Tears spilled onto Rina's cheeks and her jaw trembled. "That's why you weren't excited when I told you," she said. "You knew you'd have to kill me."

"I won't kill you," Ramiel said, and he meant it.

Another pause. "Why would you tell him?" Rina asked, jerking her head toward Gabriel, who was still watching the conversation, though he at least didn't seem to be enjoying where it was going anymore. "Why couldn't you let me believe everything was going to be okay?"

"I thought he'd be a better sport about it," Ramiel said, glaring at his brother. "He's broken his share of rules over the last two thousand years."

"Whoa, hey, don't pin this on me," Gabriel said, holding his hands up. "This is all you."

"I would have told you the truth anyway," Ramiel added, turning back toward Rina. "I wouldn't have let you go into this without knowing the child was a Nephilim. It's too dangerous."

"And getting me into this situation in the first place wasn't?" Rina demanded, tears streaming down her face. "Why not just let me be?"

"I couldn't," Ramiel said, his voice pained.

"Why not? Because you loved me?"

Ramiel hated the way she said it, as if it were a lie he had told. "Yes," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I don't believe you," Rina said.

"I know," Ramiel said.

"Ramiel, can I speak with you privately?" Gabriel interrupted, standing up and heading to the next room.

Ramiel stood reluctantly and followed. "What do you want to say? Not a good enough show for you?" Ramiel asked tiredly.

"Look, I'm all for you getting your mistakes thrown in your face, but what is going on here? Are you really _that _far gone?"

"You tell me," Ramiel said, holding his arms out. "Does my Grace look like anything special anymore to you?"

Gabriel shook his head. "You probably have a century before it runs out completely," he said.

"And then I'll be human. And then you can finally kill me."

"I'm not killing you," Gabriel said.

"If you kill Rina, you're going to have to kill me," Ramiel said. "I can't keep taking hits like this."

Gabriel sighed. "I won't kill her," he said. "I'll even help you ward her against the others, if she wants it. But if she wants me to kill her, I will."

Ramiel shook his head and went back to the living room, Gabriel close behind him. Rina had stopped crying and was staring blankly ahead of her.

"Rina?" Ramiel asked.

"I've decided I'll have the baby," she said blankly. "But as soon as it's born, I want out. I don't want to see you again, I don't want to see the child again."

Ramiel took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "If that's what you want."

"Can you take my memory of this whole thing?" Rina asked, looking up at the Angels standing before her. "After the baby is born, can you make me forget about the Angels and Nephilim and everything?"

Ramiel felt like someone had punched him. "Yes," he said. "I can take the memories of you and everyone else in town that have anything to do with my ever being here. You won't remember me." Ramiel didn't even care that taking so many memories from so many years would drain him significantly.

"Good," Rina said. "You can stay until the child is born, but then I want you to take it and go."

"If that's what you want," Ramiel said, defeated. "But please, let Gabriel ward the house. It'll keep Angels from being able to find it unless they know exactly where it is. It'll protect you."

"Not just me," she said. "Everyone. The whole town. I don't want any Angels back here."

Ramiel looked over at Gabriel, pleading.

"Yeah, sure," Gabriel said. Then he looked pointedly at Ramiel. "I'm finding you after this ordeal is over, and you're going to make it up to me."

Ramiel nodded as Gabriel vanished.

"You should get back to sleep," Ramiel said, turning back to Rina.

Rina just nodded, getting up and heading to the stairs. "You stay down here," she said over her shoulder, just as Ramiel was about to follow her.

"Of course," Ramiel said, heading back to the living room. He sat on the couch and turned the light off, burying his face in his hands.


	12. Reconciliation

The next morning, Ramiel was in the kitchen making breakfast when Rina came down. It was a habit he had developed in the past few years. He had figured that since he was never asleep, it wouldn't hurt to make breakfast for Rina in the morning.

"Good morning," Ramiel said when Rina came down. She just nodded as Ramiel handed her a plate. She looked at the food uneasily but took it to the table anyway.

"You aren't going to eat?" Rina asked when Ramiel across from her at the table without a plate.

"I don't need to." Ramiel shrugged. "I don't sleep either."

"So why have you the last five years?"

"It alarms people if I don't eat, so I eat. I haven't ever slept; I read instead."

Rina nodded again, eating in silence.

"I shouldn't have lied to you," Ramiel said. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Rina said between bites.

Ramiel looked up at her, his mood lifting ever so slightly.

Rina noticed this and glanced away. "I don't forgive you, but I know you're sorry."

"I don't expect your forgiveness," Ramiel said.

Rina hesitated for a moment. "Were you lying when you said you love me?"

"No. Never," Ramiel said. "I do love you."

"And I still love you," Rina said. "But you lied to me. For five years. Over something like this. Over something that could get me killed."

"I know. I'm sorry," Ramiel repeated. "I would never let anything happen to you." Rina snorted and he corrected himself, "I would never let anyone hurt you."

Rina moved her food around her plate, not eating much. "Will you really leave? If I ask you to?"

"Yes," Ramiel said, he mood deflating again. "I won't leave you by yourself with a Nephilim, but I would be far enough away that you wouldn't see me." He waited for a moment, expecting her to send him away, but she only nodded to herself. "Please don't ask me to leave. Not yet."

"I won't," Rina said. She was quiet a moment, questions swimming around in her head. "You said you had children before," she said without preamble.

"I did," Ramiel said. "Two boys." He paused for a moment. He hadn't thought about his sons in many years. "It's been so long, I can't remember their names," he said sadly. "Or their mothers' names."

"They had names? I thought you said the Nephilim are monsters."

"Everything has a name," Ramiel said. "Even monsters."

There was a pause before Rina asked, "What were they like? Do you remember?"

"I remember some." Ramiel sighed as he thought back. "They weren't too bad, not on their own. The more they were around humans, the more human they became," he said thoughtfully. "A bit like Angels, I suppose. The problem was there were too many Nephilim, and they couldn't be controlled."

"So what did they do?" Rina asked.

"Started killing." Ramiel looked down at his hands clasped in front of him on the table. "They were savage. We knew they would be, but we didn't expect-" he trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "No, I guess we did expect it. We knew our Father would be angry, but we didn't expect his reaction to be so severe."

"What did you expect him to do?"

Ramiel shrugged. "Punish us, for sure. We were his Soldiers, nothing more. He would never think twice before punishing us as he saw fit. But you." He nodded to Rina. "Humanity. One of his favorite creations. He would punish individuals, sometimes cities. We never expected him to save a family and sacrifice the rest for something we had done."

Rina pushed her plate away, what was left of her breakfast forgotten. "But if you _knew _the Nephilim would be monsters, why would you even have them?"

Ramiel smiled bitterly. "Angels aren't like humans. When we have our power and a connection with Heaven, we are objective and absolute, with a very limited range of emotion," he explained. "We...lusted, after human women. Those of us who were leading our escapade made a pact with the whole group that we would have children. It was poor judgement, and I think a reason for it was to spite our Father, but we didn't have any thoughts of empathy for humanity."

"And you were punished?"

"Severely," Ramiel said with a nod, his wings aching at the mention of punishment. "Many of us were sent away. I fell with many of my brothers, and our wings were clipped and useless. A few," here Ramiel paused, trying to remember the names, "Azazel, Samyaza, Araquiel, Bezaliel, Armaros," Ramiel furrowed his brow, his memories unclear, "those and others whose names I can't quite grasp, were bound and thrown into Hell. I'll never understand how or why I escaped that punishment."

"What happened to them?" Rina was leaning forward in her seat, enraptured in spite of herself.

"Their Grace - the thing that gives us our power - was twisted in Hell. You can corrupt a soul into a Demon, but an Angle's essence isn't the same. They became much more powerful Demons, enlisted to become the Generals of Hell. And the Generals were second only to the Knights of Hell under the King."

"Who was King?"

"At that time it was Cain," Ramiel remembered. "I don't know who it is now. Cain was King for a long time after he killed his brother, and he was King when I fell. I heard he enjoyed having the Generals under his command, but he vanished at some point. I don't know who it is now, but I imagine the power struggle is bloody."

"What-" Rina started to ask, but she hesitated. "What exactly does the King of Hell do?"

Ramiel looked at her sadly. "He makes sure damned souls are tortured, keeps the Demons from killing each other." Ramiel paused for a moment, trying to find a way to put it delicately, but not finding the right words. "He sends Demons up to torment humanity."

"And the Devil?"

"Lucifer is trapped in a Cage," Ramiel said. "He doesn't do anything of import."

Rina looked around the room, not sure how to process the information she was being given.

"You're not lying to me?" she finally asked. When Ramiel shook his head, she asked, "Why?"

"I've lied enough, I think," Ramiel said with a shrug. "I'll tell you anything."

"Because I asked you to take my memory of this, when you take the child."

Ramiel shook his head. "I'll tell you because I've lied to you, too much. I want you to know. And if you still want me to take your memory at some point, I'll take it."

Rina nodded and looked down at the table. They sat like that for a long time: Rina looking at the table, Ramiel studying Rina, watching for some kind of reaction.

"This is a lot to take in," Ramiel said gently. "Why don't you rest? We can talk more later."

"There's something else I want to know," Rina said, looking up at him.

"Anything."

"You keep saying that you and your brothers are Angels," she said.

"We are, more or less," Ramiel agreed.

"Then the Father you keep talking about, you mean God?"

"He is my Father," Ramiel said.

"Okay," Rina said, leaning back and passing a hand over her face.

"This is too much for one day," Ramiel said, making to get up to end for the day, but Rina stopped him.

"Where is your Father?" she asked. "With everything going on in the world, how can he just watch it happen?"

Ramiel sighed and leaned back in his chair, wondering how he should say it. "My Father," he started.

"If you say 'works in mysterious ways' I will cut you," Rina interrupted.

"Alright," Ramiel said, taking a deep breath. "My Father hasn't been heard from in two thousand years. That's why Gabriel came to Earth; the other Angels need direction, and with Michael and Raphael being the only two Archangels still up there and in charge without orders to give, there is unrest. At least as far as I can tell." Ramiel paused to let this sink in. "When my Father did his part in creating humanity, he gave them free will. What they do with it is beyond his power."

"Did his part? What does that mean?"

"My Father isn't the only deity," Ramiel said. "I've personally run across a few of the Greeks, though they weren't pleased to see me."

"So, everything they've done...?"

"The events are all connected," Ramiel confirmed. "Different parts of the world and at different times, but they happened. Some of the myths and transcripts have been altered over time to fit one religion or another, but they're all there."

"They're all true, then?"

"To some extent," Ramiel confirmed.

"And the monsters in their stories? They're real too?"

"They are. Most monsters are." Ramiel hated to tell her the truth, but couldn't bring himself to lie again.

Rina nodded and stared out the window, looking at nothing.

"There are people who hunt them," Ramiel added, trying to ease her worry. "I taught them myself, a long time ago. They've taken the job upon themselves over the centuries, and they're actually pretty good at it."

"I would think they would be, if you taught them," Rina said, looking back at him with a cautious smile.

Ramiel smiled back. "I don't suppose I might be forgiven?" he asked, though he doubted it.

"Not quite," Rina said. "But you're heading in the right direction."

* * *

Over the next few months, Rina had a lot of questions. She asked about Ramiel's life as an Archangel and about teaching humanity to hunt. Ramiel told her the whole truth, holding nothing back from her this time. He quit his job, since he had enough money to support them and he didn't want to leave her alone for fear of Michael or Raphael finding her, though he trusted Gabriel's warding. He could tell that Rina was beginning to trust him again; it was in the way she spoke to him and how she looked at him. It might have been in spite of herself, but she was trusting him again.

"You told me once that Ramiel helped create the cosmos," Rina said one night while they were reading on the sofa.

Ramiel smiled as he looked up at her. "Yes," he said, "I suppose I did."

"Was that true?" she asked, closing her book. "Did you really help with that?"

"I did," Ramiel said, setting his book aside. "A very _very _long time ago. Groups of us worked on different sections of the universe. It was a lot smaller then, and when we were done we gave them a little shove, so they started moving and their momentum could take care of the rest. There were deities there that I haven't met or heard of since, so they must be elsewhere."

"Really?"

"Of course," Ramiel said. "There was the group of us that decided we liked the chunk of rock that would become Earth, and we split it. We fought each other because of various events, the Flood being one of them. Everyone had to start over because of that, and since then everyone else has had a bit of an issue with my Father and His Angels."

"I can see how that would happen," Rina said with a laugh. She had begun to laugh more over the past few months as her trust grew again. Ramiel was extra careful to not betray that trust again.

"Yes," Ramiel said. "But cultures that have more than one creation story tend to have some catastrophe like that to blame."

"Interesting," Rina said, smiling. Then she drew her brows together and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she rubbed her swollen belly.

"Is everything okay?" Ramiel asked, leaning forward, concerned.

Rina laughed again. "Everything's fine," she said. "The baby's kicking."

"Really?" Ramiel sat further forward, curious now.

"Do you want to feel?" Rina had an amused look on her face.

"May I?"

Rina nodded and Ramiel crossed the room to her, kneeling beside the recliner she was lounging in. She took his hand in hers and laid it over her midsection. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Ramiel felt a small bump under his hand as the child shifted. His face lit up and he looked up at Rina, who was smiling softly at him.

"Would you kiss me?" Rina asked quietly.

Ramiel blinked at her for a moment, not sure if she meant it. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Rina nodded. "Please."

Ramiel leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, gently. After a moment, one of her hands wound into his hair and the other rested between his shoulder blades. Ramiel pressed closer to her, responding to her touch. He hadn't even known how much he missed being close to her until this moment, but it wasn't even a minute later that she pressed her hands to his chest, gently pushing him away. Ramiel was disappointed, but he didn't fight against her.

"I love you," Rina said, looking Ramiel in the eye with a small smile. It was the first time she had said it since the first day he had told her the truth.

"I love you too," Ramiel said, cupping her cheek cautiously.

Rina leaned her head into his touch. "I don't want you to go." Her voice was soft.

Ramiel's heart flipped in his chest. "You forgive me then?" he asked hopefully.

Rina nodded. "I forgive you."


	13. Nephilim

The Nephilim was small, with a shock of auburn hair on her head. Her eyes were a pale hazel, but already Ramiel had noticed them change to a muted gold twice. As she grew older, she would learn to control her abilities. Hopefully. She had been named Ira Jane, after Rina's grandmothers, which was just fine with Ramiel; he hadn't found himself very long in ideas for names.

Ramiel stood over his daughter's crib just as the sun peaked over the horizon, checking up on her for the thousandth time that morning. They had come home from the hospital the day before with a clean bill of health, but Ramiel still worried; he knew what a Nephilim was capable of.

While mother and child had come through the delivery healthy, Rina looked much worse for wear. Carrying a Nephilim child took a lot out of the mother, even more-so than carrying a human child. Rina seemed to have aged ten years in the past nine months; she had more wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and creases were deepening on her forehead. Errant strands of grey hair stood out on her head. She was only thirty-two, but Ramiel worried that carrying and delivering Ira had taken too much out of her.

Ramiel turned back to the bed, meaning to slip in quietly so as not to disturb Rina. Instead, he saw Rina turned toward him, watching him. She smiled when their eyes met.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"Good morning," Ramiel answered, sitting on the edge of the mattress beside her. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Rina said with a small shrug. She had been nothing but tired since Ira was born. Even though she looked much better now than she had at the hospital, there were dark circles under her eyes and her face was thin. Ramiel had managed to talk her into eating a bit, but for the most part she wasn't hungry. Just tired. It didn't help that Ira didn't yet sleep through the night.

"Can I get you anything?" Ramiel's voice was tinged with worry.

"No, I'm okay," Rina replied, yawning slightly.

Ramiel was about to protest when there was a small noise from the crib. When he went over to inspect it, he found Ira blinking up at him. "Good morning little one," Ramiel said as he lifted the child from the crib. Ira didn't cry much, but Nephilim never did. It was part of the reason Ramiel hovered around her so much.

Rina pushed herself into a sitting position as Ramiel carried their daughter to the bed. She took Ira in her arms, holding her close. Since Ira didn't usually cry, Rina found herself constantly worried that the infant was hungry or tired or anything else, and she couldn't know. But Ramiel seemed to know if there was ever something that needed to be done. Intuition, he called it. Rina was sure it was more than that, but she didn't pry; if Ramiel knew when their daughter needed something, she was grateful. She could feel how weak she was, but she didn't want to tell Ramiel, since she could tell how worried he was and it would just upset him more to know how little strength she had. Rina felt as if she were constantly fighting against sleep, and just sitting up and holding her daughter exhausted her. In truth, she was frightened; she knew she shouldn't be this weak, and she shuddered to think of what it meant, so she didn't dwell on that.

Still, Rina smiled down at her daughter, holding her close, refusing to betray her weakness.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ramiel asked, watching Rina and Ira intently.

"I'm fine," Rina said, smiling up at him, hoping he believed her. She could tell he didn't, but she was loathe to admit otherwise.

But as the weeks drew on, Rina's strength didn't return. She couldn't keep up her ruse after the first few days, and Ramiel was on high alert taking care of both Rina and Ira. He tried to share some of his strength with her, hoping she just needed a nudge in the right direction, but it wasn't helping. Maybe if he had still had all of his powers at his command, he would have been able to fix her, but with his Grace so depleted, he didn't have the juice to help her. And he knew Gabriel wasn't likely to help, not with this. Besides, he already owed Gabriel one favor, and adding another to that list was very likely to get him killed, and he couldn't help his family if he was dead. Not that Rina's future was looking particularly bright at the moment.

It wasn't long before Rina's body couldn't feed Ira anymore. Ramiel took care of it, but he watched Rina with worry. She ate and slept, getting up when it was necessary but not for any other reason. Her skin had become sallow and her hair was greying.

Ramiel thought the worst part was that her eyes were no longer bright and happy. Instead, her gaze was dull and weak, and she found it hard to focus her vision on anything.

Through the whole ordeal, Ira continued to grow. She likely would have been a happy child if the mood in the house weren't so strained. Ramiel took notice of the affect the stress was having on Ira and made a point to take a walk with her while Rina was resting. Ira would look around curiously and giggle when butterflies would land on her hand or her father's shoulder. Occasionally, her eyes would change and her grip would become a painful vice, but she didn't notice that she was hurting her father's fingers, and Ramiel knew that now was not the time to try to change that behavior. He dealt with it and figured he'd work on teaching her when she was older.

On one such day in the park, Ramiel was sitting across from Ira, who was babbling and playing with a few of her toys. She was almost a year old at this point, and sharp for her age. She had figured out how to form simple words quite a few weeks before, and now seemed determined to string together as many words as was physically possible. Ramiel watched her as her eyes followed a bee's path from flower to flower. Ira looked between her father and the bee curiously, grasping with a chubby hand at the batch of flowers.

Often in the past Ira would crawl to investigate surrounding areas, but recently she had been trying to get her legs under herself. Ramiel watched as a determined look shaped Ira's features and she shifted her weight. Ira managed to get her legs underneath herself and tried to push herself up. Ramiel moved beside her, offering himself as something to brace against, ready to catch her if she lost her balance. Ira gripped her father's arm, and he helped her stand. The child took a moment to steady herself on her feet, looking after the bee again. Her apprehension apparently forgotten, Ira let go of Ramiel's arm and managed a few steps before she lost he balance in her eagerness and stumbled forward. Ramiel managed to catch her before she fell, setting her gently on the ground. A grin lit his face as he watched his daughter struggle to her feet again to step closer to the flowers.

When Ramiel returned home later that day with Ira and her things in tow, he glanced around the house, always hoping to find Rina stronger and up and about, though she never was. Ira yawned, her eyelids drooping.

"Why don't we get you down for a nap?" Ramiel said quietly, mounting the steps with the little girl in his arms. When he reached the door to her room, he felt her stiffen in his arms, something catching her attention. When he looked up, he saw a familiar figure standing in the doorway to the room he shared with Rina. Immediately, Ramiel turned his body so he was angled between his child and the intruder, his eyes fixed on the newcomer.

"Why are you here?" Ramiel asked, knowing the answer and hoping it wasn't true.

"Hello Ramiel," Tessa said, a sad smile on her face, avoiding the question.

"I'm amazed you remember my name," Ramiel snapped, glaring at her, trying to fight back tears.

"I'm not here for the girl," Tessa said, inclining her dark head toward Ira. "That isn't my job."

"I'm aware of your job," Ramiel snapped. "Get on with it and get out."

Tessa sighed, studying Ramiel. "I can let you say good-bye," she said. "It isn't protocol, but I'll make an exception for an old friend."

Ramiel just stared at the Reaper. He wished she would leave. "Why did you come here?" Ramiel asked, trying to stall. Hoping she would go. "This isn't your area."

"I knew you were here," Tessa said, shrugging. "Call it curiosity." She turned and walked into Rina's room.

Ramiel turned as well, crossing the room to set Ira down in her crib. Ira looked up, curious, noticing the pained look on her father's face. But she yawned again, and was asleep in a heartbeat.

"Ramiel?"

He turned to see Rina in the doorway. Not the Rina he had seen for the last year, withered and dying, but the Rina he had known in the previous years, young and full of life. The sight of her spirit sent a pang through Ramiel's chest and released the tears he had been fighting; he felt as if his chest had been ripped open, leaving his heart exposed.

Rina crossed to the crib, looking down at Ira's sleeping face and then back up into Ramiel's eyes. She didn't look afraid. She looked saddened. "Will I remember you? In whatever comes next?" Her eyes scanned his face, though Ramiel couldn't be sure what she was looking for.

"Yes," Ramiel said, tears spilling down his cheeks. It was mostly true; those in Hell tended to remember for a time before they were twisted into Demons, while those in Heaven generally remembered the best parts of their lives, the more painful parts being dulled, though not totally forgotten. He knew there was no chance Rina would end up in Hell. "You will remember."

Rina's gaze fell on Ira again. She reached out a hand as if to touch her daughter's forehead. Her hand passed harmlessly through Ira's body, causing the Nephilim to shift in her sleep. "I want to remember."

"I hate to break this up, but I do have other business to get back to." Tessa's voice came from the doorway, sounding apologetic.

Rina looked back to Ramiel for a moment, and Ramiel studied her, committed her face to memory, not wanting to forget any tiny detail.

When Tessa took a gentle hold of Rina's arm and vanished with her into the Veil, Ramiel felt as if someone had ripped his heart out of his chest.

* * *

Rina was cremated at Ramiel's insistence, though her brother wondered why. Ramiel refused to explain, and given what he had gone through with taking care of her in the past year, he gave in relatively easily. Rina's parents had died a few years prior, and a quick service seemed to be all her brother wanted to deal with. Ira was upset by the stress and sadness around her, but she was still too young to understand the depth of the situation.

After the funeral, Ramiel took Ira and left for a different town. He was agitated and couldn't bear to be in the same place. He promised himself he'd keep in touch with Rina's brother for Ira's sake, but he couldn't seem to convince himself he actually would.

Though without the benefit of solidarity, he was forced to stop somewhere instead of resuming his incessant wandering.

Ira grew quickly, or maybe it only seemed that way to Ramiel. She was intelligent, and incredibly strong when she used her abilities. Unfortunately, she also showed the lack of remorse that was a characteristic of the Nephilim. Ramiel did his best to teach her to control her abilities and treat the other children with kindness, and she seemed to understand what was asked of her because when she started school she made friends easily.

Ramiel watched his daughter carefully, on the lookout for signs of the monster a Nephilim could become, but he needn't have worried; Ira never showed signs of becoming a danger to anyone.

In grade school, Ira began asking questions, as children are wont to do.

"Daddy, how come the other kids have moms and I don't?" Ira had just gotten home from her first grade class, and Mother's Day was fast approaching.

Ramiel sighed and turned to his daughter, having known this question would come up at some point. He knelt in front of her so he was looking her in the eyes. "You had a mom once," he began, wondering how he could tell her gently, "but when you were very small, she was very sick. She fought to get well for a long time because she loved you very much and wanted nothing more than to watch you grow up, but she didn't have the strength in the end, and she passed away."

Ira studied him for a moment, considering his words, her bright eyes thoughtful. "Passed away? You mean she went to Heaven?" she finally asked.

Ramiel wasn't sure where she had picked that up, since he didn't take her to church, but he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he nodded. "Yes. She went to Heaven." He hadn't noticed tears had collected in his eyes until Ira reached out and brushed one from his cheeks.

"Don't be sad Daddy," she said. "Heaven is a good place."

"Yes," Ramiel said. "Heaven is a very good place." He stood and wiped at his eyes, drying them. "Now why don't you get started on your homework before dinner?"

There weren't many questions Ira asked that Ramiel hadn't anticipated. She asked the same kinds of questions other kids did, and Ramiel did his best to be honest with her without upsetting her, as he did whenever she asked a question about her mother. The one question he had been hoping against came one day in 1996, when Ira was ten years old.

"How come you glow?"

Ramiel looked up from his book, startled. "Glow?" he asked, trying to get his thoughts in order.

"Yes, glow," Ira said defiantly, as if he would deny it. "And it looks like you're wearing a mask, like you have another face underneath."

Ramiel sighed, closing his book. He wasn't sure how he should answer this, since he was essentially going to tell his daughter that they weren't human. "Truth is a strange thing, but I will not lie to you," he said, wanting to make sure she understood that he wasn't going to make something up to appease her.

"How strange?" Ira asked uncertainly.

"I'm an Angel," Ramiel said. "My true form is contained within this body, my vessel, so I may interact with humans."

"Angel?" Ira asked, drawing her brows together suspiciously. "Like in Heaven?"

"Yes, that kind of Angel," Ramiel confirmed.

"Does that mean I'm an Angel too?" Ira asked, seeming excited by the prospect.

Ramiel shook his head. "You aren't an Angel."

"But I can see you," Ira protested. "No one else seems to be able to. And I'm strong, you said so."

"You are strong," Ramiel said. He was a bit surprised that Ira didn't accuse him of lying to her. "But you aren't an Angel. Your mother was human, and that makes you half Angel. That's called a Nephilim, and Nephilim are very strong and can see Angels' true forms in our vessels."

"Why are you the only one I've seen?" Ira asked.

"Not many of us are on Earth right now," Ramiel explained. "Maybe one day you'll see more." As he said it, Ramiel was acutely aware that Seals would begin snapping in only thirteen years.

As those thirteen years passed, Ramiel made sure Ira was aware of her capabilities as a Nephilim, but also made sure to tell her why other Angels might not want her around. She protested that, of course, citing the fact that she hadn't done anything seriously wrong in her life. Ramiel knew this, and he made sure she knew that, but he made it clear that Angels wouldn't necessarily look at the specifics. Ira grumbled that this wasn't fair, but accepted it and moved on.

The only thing Ramiel kept from his daughter was the impending Apocalypse.


	14. Moving Forward

In the early 2000s, Ira graduated high school. Ramiel was wary at the ceremony, as he always was when he was in public with his daughter. They had moved a few times, having to begin claiming Ira was his neice and then his cousin as she grew older and his vessel remained the same age, making the truth seem a little far-fetched. On top of that, Ramiel was constantly worried that one of his brothers or sisters would find him out and come to Earth to punish him and his daughter, even though they were both warded. He was fairly certain Gabriel wouldn't sell him out, though, as long as he still owed him a favor.

Ramiel was acutely aware of the approaching Apocalypse, but did his best to hide his apprehension. He hadn't told Ira about it, didn't see the need. There wouldn't be anything he could do to protect her from the fight, so he let her believe she just had to watch out for other Angels. Angels couldn't generally tell a Nephilim apart from a human, so as long as she didn't use any of her abilities, she would remain hidden. Ramiel hoped that was the case, anyway. His Father could tell at a glance, and Ramiel found himself hoping his Father wouldn't come back. Or that He wouldn't come across Ira if He did.

Ira had decided to go to college in California. They had lived in the Northeast and the Midwest, but she hadn't ever been to the west coast.

She also insisted that her father not follow her.

"I can take care of myself," she argued, shoving another box into her car. "You've taught me enough."

"I know," Ramiel said, handing her a suitcase. "But I worry about you."

"You can't protect me forever," Ira pointed out. "Eventually I'll have to take care of myself."

Ramiel tried not to flinch, but he could tell from how Ira's expression softened that his pain had come through on his face. "Be that as it may," he said stiffly, "I don't want you to be that far away from me."

"Dad, not everything is your responsibility," Ira said.

"Not everything," Ramiel conceded. "But you are."

"I'm grown. I'm not your responsibility."

Ramiel wanted to argue with her, make her see reason. But how could he tell her that he had lost so much that losing something else would likely destroy him? How could he explain that he blamed himself for how her mother had died? How could he tell her that and not feel like he was manipulating her into staying against her will? He knew he had taught her all he could. He knew that she was tough and could take on almost any threat, mundane or divine. He knew she didn't necessarily _need_ his protection. But he hated the thought of not protecting her, especially with the Apocalypse less than a decade away, if Gabriel's estimation had been correct.

Ramiel didn't doubt for a second that Gabriel's estimation was correct.

"I'll call you if I need anything," Ira said, encouraged by her father's silence. She said 'call' out of habit, knowing that praying to him would be faster and far more efficient than a phone if she was in a bind.

Sighing, Ramiel shook his head. "If you get in serious trouble, I won't be able to get there fast enough. Pray to Gabriel, he-"

"Wait, you _want _me to call another Angel if I'm in trouble?" Ira interrupted, her eyes wide in astonishment.

"Gabriel knows you exist. He knew when I first learned your mother was pregnant. He wasn't fond of the idea, but he agreed to leave you in peace."

"Why?" Ira found it hard to believe that an Angel would let his brother break a rule like that out of the goodness of his heart.

Ramiel shrugged noncommittally. "Doesn't matter. If you're in danger, pray to him. I'll deal with him after if I have to, but hopefully he'll help you until I can get there."

"That's a lot to put on someone on faith," Ira said, eyebrow raised skeptically. "You're trusting him with my life."

"I know," Ramiel said tiredly. "But it's all I have to go on. I'll talk to him. Promise me you'll pray to him first."

Ira had never heard her father sound desperate before, and it was startling to hear. He had always been so sure of himself. Even when they were moving or he had a feeling something supernatural was hiding around the corner, there was never any desperation in his manner, just a calm determination. But now, his gaze was hard and terrified, practically begging her to make this promise for him. She was quite sure she'd never remember to call either of them if she really was in danger, but she nodded anyway. "Okay. I'll pray to him first if I'm in trouble."

Ramiel's frame relaxed fractionally. "Good," he said, his voice much less haggard than it had been a moment ago. "I'll make sure he knows."

Ira doubted Gabriel would be willing to help her if he had been generally against the idea of letting her live in the first place, but she kept that opinion to herself, knowing it would just upset her father.

She had also decided to go by her middle name, Jane, when she arrived in California. But she kept that from her father too, for now. She didn't think it would necessarily upset him, but she didn't think throwing so much change at him at once was such a good idea.

* * *

Ramiel sat on the dock overlooking Lake Michigan. It was close to midnight, and he had been sitting there for about half an hour, trying to get up the courage to call Gabriel.

It was a beautiful place. The town he and Ira lived in was only ten minutes from the Lake, and it was a place they both enjoyed visiting, for their own reasons. At the moment, the full moon shone brightly, reflecting serenely off the dark water. No one else was around at this hour, and the silence would have been peaceful if Ramiel weren't acutely aware of the possibility of werewolves lurking in the shadows.

Finally, Ramiel steeled himself and called out to Gabriel, telling him where he was and asking him to come.

Nothing happened.

Ramiel waited five minutes before he spoke again, into the silence. "Gabriel, you can come nicely or I can summon you here."

Again, nothing happened.

Ramiel was more annoyed than worried about his brother. "Last chance Gabriel," he said. "I will summon you quite painfully next time I have to speak."

A moment later, there was a flutter of wings on the dock to Ramiel's right, signaling Gabriel's arrival.

"Must you call at such inconvenient times? And was the threat really necessary?" Gabriel asked as he took a seat on the edge of the dock. His clothes looked disheveled, and he sounded vaguely annoyed.

"You weren't coming," Ramiel said with a shrug.

"I hope your situation is life or death if you insist on threatening me."

"It isn't," Ramiel admitted. "Not at the moment anyway. I wanted to ask you a favor."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at his brother. "You owe _me_ a favor."

"I'm aware," Ramiel said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, trying to sort through what he had to say.

"You never call with good news, do you?" Gabriel asked, reading the stress in Ramiel's posture.

Ramiel barked a laugh. "No, I guess I don't," he said. "It's a simple favor," he added, getting back to his point. "Only in case something happens."

"Then spit it out," Gabriel sighed. "As long as we understand that you owe me two favors."

"Fine, two favors" Ramiel said. "Ira is leaving for California tomorrow. She doesn't want me to go with her."

"Your daughter doesn't want you to go with her? I wonder why," Gabriel snorted, his mouth twitching into a grin.

"I told her to ask you for help if she was in danger, since I can't get that far very fast, and you can." Ramiel lifted his chin defiantly, bracing for Gabriel to throw it back in his face. He didn't know why he was asking; he didn't expect Gabriel to agree. He noticed that this was a recurring theme in his life, and determined to change that at some point when he was able.

Gabriel's grin melted into a thoughtful expression. He was silent for a few moments before he answered, studying Ramiel.

"I'll tell you what," Gabriel finally said. "If your girl prays to me for help because her life is in danger, I'll help her."

"You will?" Ramiel asked, trying - and failing - to keep the surprise and disbelief out of his voice and off his face. "Why?"

"Well, for starters, you'll owe me another favor," Gabriel said, his eyes faraway, as if planning what he could use Ramiel for now that he had that other favor. "The other reason is that, if this girl is anything like you, she won't actually call for help; she'd prefer to take on the world by herself. Which means you'd owe me two favors and I wouldn't have to do much."

"Fine," Ramiel sighed. "As long as you hold up your end if she prays to you."

Gabriel waved off this concern. "I always keep my end," he said. "Make sure to hold up your end."

"I will," Ramiel said, looking back out over the water. He had expected that to be the end of the conversation, and he was surprised to find that Gabriel didn't vanish immediately. After a minute of silence, he turned to his brother and asked, "Was there something you wanted to add?"

"Want to? No," Gabriel said, shaking his head slightly. "I will anyway though. Azazel is starting to go after his gifted children."

Ramiel sighed, remembering his encounter with Azazel thirty years prior, and the deal he had made with a young Mary Campbell. "I guess that means we're going to have a problem."

"Only if you get involved," Gabriel pointed out. "Your kid'll be out of the house. Have some fun. Play Trickster. Live it up before we all die." Gabriel's voice was cheerful as he said this, as if he were discussing an upcoming party, which in a way he was.

"I think I'll pass," Ramiel said. After a moment of silence, he added, "You know, I might not call with good news, but you don't bring any with you when you come. In all the times we've seen each other in the last three millenia, I think it was only twice that you didn't bring some comment about the Apocalypse along with you."

"It's the most important current event I have," Gabriel said matter-of-factly. "I might have to mess with those Winchesters at some point though, before Michael and Lucifer get a hold of them. Could be fun."

"Do you know anything about them?" Ramiel asked after a moment passed in silence. "I've seen them before, but I don't know much about them, outside of the whole deal with being vessels for the Apocalypse."

Gabriel shrugged. "They're hunters and descendants of Cain and Abel. But I did hear that one is at college, trying to get away from hunting and be normal or something."

"That hasn't worked for many of them," Ramiel said thoughtfully, thinking back across the centuries. He hadn't met many who were raised as hunters who could get away from it completely.

"I guess we'll see what happens," Gabriel said, standing to leave. "Whether he does or not isn't really relevant. He's still a vessel."

With a rustling of feathers, Gabriel was gone, leaving Ramiel staring out at the water alone.

* * *

Chuck sat staring at his computer screen. He couldn't seem to get words to obey him. Every time he thought he had a scene to write, he would type it out and it wouldn't sound right, or it wouldn't make sense, or it would be just plain bad.

Groaning, Chuck stood from his desk and stretched, wringing the stiffness from his joints. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed another beer from the fridge. Lately, in addition to not being able to coherently string more than four words together on paper, he had been plagued with headaches. He had found that drinks were a good way to deaden them. Or at least, they dulled his senses enough that he didn't notice so much.

He made his way back to his computer, knocking over a couple of books when he set his bottle down. They were the only three Chuck had ever had published, though the name on the title was Carver Edlund. Chuck had decided to use a pen name for his writing, figuring Chuck Shirley didn't sound much like an author's name. It didn't really matter though; the books hadn't sold many copies.

After another hour of trying - and failing - to scratch out a coherent story, Chuck's headache grew debilitating. His vision blurred when he stood, and he lost his balance a few times on his way to his room, slamming painfully into the wall or bracing himself against the furniture to prevent falling to the floor. The headaches he had had before had never been this severe. Spots swam in his vision and his ears rang. If he didn't know better, he'd say there was some kind of weird electrical storm, but he figured he was just drunk and had a headache.

In fact, there was lightning, quite a bit of it. Or that's how it would appear to mortal eyes. Any Angel could tell you that Chuck was the next on the list of prophets, and the lightning was just an effect of Heaven's will for Chuck to see the prophecies, igniting synapses and neural pathways that had been dormant up to this moment to allow visions of the future to appear to Chuck.

Chuck, however, in his drunken state, didn't notice what was actually going on. He collapsed in a heap on his bed, unconscious almost immediately.

When he woke the next morning, he sat bolt upright. He had dreamed of two young men and their time fighting monsters and Demons and ghosts. It had been bizarre, all the information he had suddenly acquired about these characters; where they were from, their names, what had happened to them to set them on the hunting path; but Chuck was determined to write it down. It was better than anything he'd ever written. He was sure that this time, the story would work and he'd be able to publish it and support himself for a while longer.

The computer took far too long to load for Chuck's liking, but there was nothing he could do about that. He was impatient, but he needed to get this right. Already, he was framing the story in his mind. He wouldn't bother too much with the characters' histories, since he didn't have as much of that information as he would have liked; he'd come up with it and find a way to work it in later. Maybe this could be a series, he thought. Yes, a series. It would have to be, with how it seemed to be going in Chuck's mind, or at least what he had come up with so far.

When the computer had finally loaded, Chuck opened his word processor. The page stared back at him, a blank canvas, waiting, inviting the story that would mean so much, though Chuck didn't know it yet.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck began to write.

**"****Prologue"**  
**"Lawrence, Kansas, 22 years ago..."**


	15. Once With Pride

It wasn't hard to figure out that the unbalance Ramiel felt was the opening of the Devil's Gate.

He was sitting on a bench in a park doing nothing in particular when he felt it - like a tear in the Earth that sent Demons spilling out. He levered to his feet as the ground shook under him; he wasn't far from Sunrise, Wyoming, having come out here in the first place because of a sudden increase in demonic omens in the area, and he could see smoke racing into the night, one or two Demons even barreling by so close they almost clipped his wings.

Of course he remembered his run-in with Sam Colt more than one hundred fifty years ago, and he had been by the completed structure once or twice out of curiosity. It had seemed so solid, and the gun hadn't been seen in years, at least since Ramiel had seen Dean Winchester with it in 1978. But if the gun had been found and the gate had been opened... That would mean hundreds would have gotten out of Hell. The Demons were shooting away from the Devil's Gate so quickly that Ramiel couldn't count them, but he saw enough to know that this was an army.

A memory started to trickle back to Ramiel's mind from decades past. Something Azazel had said - the Gifted children, and the Generals.

This was Azazel's new army. An army for Lucifer.

Ramiel had his blade in his hand, but no idea what to do with it. The Demons were scattered, and he certainly wasn't able to get to them with any kind of speed. He wished he knew which demons had gotten out. He wished he knew if this meant one of the Winchester brothers was ready to become Lucifer's vessel. He wished he still had a fraction of his former power so he could help end this before it started, even if it meant Michael would kill him for it.

"I thought that was you."

Ramiel spun around, angel blade at the ready, to find a Demon staring at him. He blinked in confusion, not recognizing the face at first. When the realization hit him, his brows knit together. "Ruby. It's been a while."

"You _do _remember," Ruby said. She studied him mildly from within her blonde vessel. "I didn't think you'd remember little ol' me. And seeing how unkind the centuries have been to you, I'll admit I'm a little shocked."

"So the Gate has been opened," Ramiel said, ignoring her comment.

"Right on schedule too," Ruby said, mildly annoyed she couldn't get a rise out of the Angel. "You'd be amazed how _easy _it is to get out when everyone's going the same way."

"So you're Azazel's army then."

"Oh sure, that was the plan at first." Ruby grinned wickedly, and Ramiel felt bad news coming. "Azazel's dead. Lilith has a new plan for Lucifer."

"What, an army isn't good enough?" Ramiel asked, trying to get her to talk.

Ruby laughed. "You know him better than I do."

Ramiel wasn't sure that was still true. He hadn't seen Lucifer in... Well, he wasn't quite sure how long.

"I just stopped in to let you know your little Demon child got out too. Looked like he was gearing up for some fun."

"Come again?" Ramiel asked, the look on his face shifting from annoyance to confusion.

Ruby laughed again. "Pride. He's your fault, isn't he?"

Realization slowly set in. "The Sins are out?" he asked, his voice small. He remembered very well when they were created. When the Watchers taught humanity the knowledge their Father had deemed forbidden, the humans became lazy, and envious, and prideful, and greedy, and lustful, and gluttonous, and wrathful. These traits had become so prevalent that it wasn't hard for the Demons to manifest.

"Oh yeah. About time too," Ruby said, dragging Ramiel from his reverie.

Ramiel was gripped by a mixture of fear and anger - fear of what was coming and the knowledge he was helpless to stop it, anger at himself for having had something to do with the creation of those damned Demons and at his Father for this whole fucking story. Without thinking, he leaped at Ruby, feeling a growl tear from his throat.

Even caught off guard and out of practice with a vessel, Ruby's reflexes were quick and she side-stepped the attack easily. Unfortunately for her, Ramiel had been fighting for millenia, and even though he was out of practice, his instincts were sharp, and he twisted and caught her by the arm.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger!" Ruby exclaimed, trying - and failing - to twist out of Ramiel's grasp.

Ramiel was so angry he felt his Grace heat up as it hadn't done in centuries. Ruby writhed as his power burned into her arm, managing to grab her knife and make a jab at Ramiel. Ramiel avoided the move with ease and was about to bring his own blade down when he was thrown bodily into a nearby tree with a _crack_.

"What a bully," someone said, maintaining their telekinetic hold on Ramiel.

The unforeseen attack did nothing to help Ramiel's mood, but he did manage to drag himself back to his feet by sheer force of will, despite the power holding him in place. "Lilith," he growled.

Lilith inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Always fun to see the Angels," she said, but her smirk said she didn't count Ramiel among that group.

"I'll throw you back in Hell myself!" Ramiel snarled, pushing back against Lilith's force and managing to shake some of it off.

Lilith looked at Ramiel as one might look at an interesting bug - only unwilling to kill it because it was amusing to look at. She put more power behind her wall of pressure so Ramiel would stay put before she turned to Ruby. "Shouldn't you be getting to the Winchesters?"

"I'm on my way," Ruby said.

"Any reason you stopped to see this one?" Lilith jerked her head toward Ramiel.

"He sent me back to Hell a couple centuries ago," Ruby replied. "Thought I'd stop and tell him his dear Pride was getting him in trouble again."

"Get to the Winchesters," Lilith said. Her voice left no room for protest.

Ruby nodded obediently and vanished.

Lilith turned her attention back to Ramiel, who was still seething and using every ounce of strength he could conjure to push back against her hold on him. Lilith raised an eyebrow at him as if he were a small child. "Don't strain yourself," she said, her voice revealing disdain rather than concern.

Ramiel stumbled forward and almost fell flat on the ground when she released the whole thing at once. He looked up at her suspiciously when he regained his footing. He rolled the handle of his angel blade in his hand for a moment, trying to decide why she would just let him go when he was quite capable of killing her.

"You won't kill me," she said, as if reading his thoughts.

"Like Hell," Ramiel said, his grip tightening on his blade.

Lilith shook her head and _tsk_ed. "Poor Ramiel. Forgetting the big twist at the end of the story."

His fading memory was probably Ramiel's least favorite part about his Grace running itself dry. But the end of the story, he still remembered that. Or the version he had known before it had changed. _The first Demon will be the last Seal. _"You're a Seal."

"Killing me won't solve anything," Lilith said smugly. "Well, nothing for you anyway. I am a little disappointed that I won't get to see what comes next, though."

"You're the _last _Seal," Ramiel said. "Kill you now and nothing happens."

"Kill me now and the last Seal is already gone," Lilith retorted. "Nothing standing in the way."

Ramiel's mind turned over on itself. He wished he could remember all the specifics of the damn Seals. He didn't know if killing her now would help because the Seals wouldn't be broken in order, or if she was right and killing her now would just remove the last Seal early and leave the door wide open for the other sixty-five. But he had to acknowledge that she had a point. As long as she was alive, he knew there wasn't a chance of the Cage being opened.

Encouraged by Ramiel's extended silence, Lilith smiled and shook her head. "Nothing you can do, old man."

"I can keep Seals intact," Ramiel said.

Lilith threw her head back and laughed. "Oh yes. Guard all the Seals we _might _go after. You know how many there are. And besides, your beloved John Winchester is already in Hell."

"What?" Ramiel asked, taken aback.

"You didn't hear that one?" Lilith asked, sneering. "He traded his soul to Azazel in exchange for Dean's life being spared. He's already down there. And when he breaks and _sheds blood in Hell, _like the Righteous man he is, we'll be one step closer to the Apocalypse."

Ramiel took a moment to process this. John Winchester, dead. And in Hell. 1983 had come and gone and Ramiel had taken note, knowing full well that it was the end of Mary's decade after selling her soul to bring John back. He knew where she was. And it seemed John had sacrificed himself as well, to save his son. However, "John is dead?" was all he could bring himself to ask.

"Yes," Lilith said. "And Dean has sold his soul in the meantime, to save his brother. He has one year."

Ramiel looked down and shook his head, trying to clear it. What was it about this family that they felt the need to sacrifice themselves? Henry vanishing to God-knows-where to keep Abaddon from getting what she wanted. Mary selling her soul for John. John selling his soul for Dean. And now Dean sacrificing himself for Sam?

"I'm not sure whether to think it's sweet or pathetic," Lilith said thoughtfully. She shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Everything is going according to plan, and you're on the wrong side."

Lifting his head took more effort than Ramiel wanted to admit, but he raised his gaze to Lilith anyway. "Never," he said, his voice tired and drained, but not defeated.

"Admirable," was all Lilith said before she disappeared into the night.

Ramiel stood rooted to the spot. All his anger seemed to have evaporated to make room for his fear to spread. He didn't want to admit how terrified he was, but he felt the terror gnawing at his gut, and in that moment he was exhausted. He looked up to the sky, and then at the world around him, taking in every detail his Father had helped create.

"Where did you go?" he asked the empty space around him. "Why can't you help us?"

If his Father heard him, He didn't answer.

* * *

Chuck had to admit that he was pretty attached to these Sam and Dean characters. He felt bad for everything he was putting them through, what with their dad being missing and then being hurt and then being dead. Seriously, the beatings alone _had _to be worth some kind of compensation.

But the stories were _brilliant. _Sure, not many people read them, but the people who _did _read the books loved them. Chuck wasn't sure how many books he had written, but each had depth and conflict and he loved them even if the fanbase was small.

Really the only complaint he had was his ideas for the series only came in his dreams, after he had had a splitting headache. Most nights he only managed to sleep after having a few beers to dull his senses, but boy were the dreams intense: he could feel what Sam and Dean were feeling, hear their thoughts. He was nowhere near claiming he understood why they thought the way they did, but he at least understood the way they thought, even though he still had no idea what was going to happen next.

The Devil's Gate being opened? Chuck admitted he felt a little bad about that, but it gave Sam and Dean another glimpse of their father, and a glimpse of their father being _proud _of them. He felt that that made up for a little bit of John's death. Well, maybe not, but he liked it anyway.

Only giving Dean a year to live? That was probably cruel. The thing was, he could tell it was important for _something_. Dean needed to be in Hell. For some reason. He hadn't worked that part out yet.

Chuck never really worked those parts out. He would just feel a headache coming and he would take something (or drink something) for the pain and his dreams always seemed to move the story forward perfectly.

Not that Chuck would _ever _consider himself to be a good enough writer to do these characters justice, but he was glad he could at least write their story down. And that he made just enough money from them to not starve to death. That was certainly nice.

Chuck took a deep breath and a long pull from his beer. He was almost done with the manuscript for the latest book. The Devil's Gate was opened at the end of the last book, and in this one the Seven Deadly Sins are the first escaped Demons Sam and Dean have come up against. He thought on the last few lines for a long time, not wanting to screw the ending up, and when the lines finally came to him, he smiled to himself and typed.

**"It's hellfire, Dean," Sam said.  
****"Whatever. You're alive, I feel good - for the first time in a long time," Dean said, and he meant it. Not that he wasn't afraid to die, that wasn't it. Sam was okay, and that was the important thing; Dean's final act would be one to protect Sam. "I got a year to live, Sam. I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little hell, huh?"  
****"You're unbelievable." So Dean was okay with just giving up and accepting his fate? Well, let Dean be okay with it as much as he wanted. Sam wasn't going to sit by and let it happen. Not without a fight.**

Chuck thought for another minute. There should be a little more. And there _would _be a little more, but in the morning. His head was pounding and he couldn't concentrate anymore.


	16. The Righteous Man Has Broken

Ramiel stood over the bruised and battered body, wiping his dirtied blade with a soiled handkerchief. This was far from the first Demon he'd fought in the year or so since that damn Gate had been opened, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last, seeing as more and more were getting out, even with the Devil's Gate closed and locked again. He had exorcised the first few Demons he'd fought before he realized they were getting back out too quickly for an exorcism to make any difference.

News of recent events wasn't exactly common knowledge up in Heaven, and Ramiel could tell from the voices on Angel Radio that most of those in the lower ranks were being kept mostly out of the loop. He heard information he already knew: the Devil's Gate in Wyoming had released at least two hundred Demons, Angels were to remain in Heaven, the few Watchers left on Earth were not to be allowed back under any circumstances for the foreseeable future (Ramiel had assumed this would be the procedure when the Demons were released since there were more important tasks at hand, but that didn't mean he wasn't stung by the flat-out denial of his status as an Angel). In fact, there had only been two significant pieces of information circulating on frequencies Ramiel could hear just by eavesdropping.

The first was that the Righteous Man was in Hell and Michael was watching for him to break the first Seal. Really this wasn't even significant, since Ramiel had already known John was in Hell, thanks to Lilith. The fact that John had been holding out for so long was what intrigued him. He'd seen Alastair's work, many centuries ago, and he knew it would be near impossible to resist for any significant amount of time.

The second piece of information that caught Ramiel's attention was that Dean Winchester was still in Hell. The Hellhounds must have caught up with him three or four months ago, and he was still there. Seeing as Michael was still Hell-bent on taking a vessel for the Apocalypse, it was strange that one of the two true vessels remained in Hell. In fact, it was peculiar that Michael wouldn't have made an exception and broken the deal that had damned Dean in the first place.

Ramiel wasn't going to pretend he understood his brother's decision, so he wondered on it when it crossed his mind, as it did now as Ramiel carried the empty body in front of him to a place a little more secluded to be burned. Why would one of the True Vessels remain in Hell with the Righteous Man? The only _logical _explanation was that they were the same person, but that didn't match with what Lilith had said.

_And here I am, believing a Demon, _Ramiel thought as he placed the body down on the pyre he had prepared and set it alight. _Probably not the best idea, but it's all I've heard._

Several times, Ramiel's musings brought him around to the conclusion Dean _must_ be the Righteous Man. He supposed it was fitting for Michael's vessel to be Righteous Man, if Dean actually _was_ the Michael Sword.

Ramiel was just about to start his car when he felt it: an all-over pang that felt as if someone had lit his veins on fire and encased his core in ice. The pain set in so quickly he doubled over with his arms wrapped around himself, only managing a strangled intake of breath. The feeling lasted only half a second, but he was doubled over with his forehead against the steering wheel for five minutes before the last of the pain died away. His breathing was ragged, and he realized Angel Radio was silent, with sound only trickling back as the pain ebbed away.

And then there were definitive cries from the Angels, ringing loudly and clearly in Ramiel's mind.

_The First Seal! _one of them cried. The voice was upset, almost scared.

_The Righteous Man has broken! _came another, disbelieving.

The next voice was definitely Michael's, commanding and ruthless as he ordered a battalion to Hell to bring Dean Winchester up from the depths.

"Dean is the Michael Sword," Ramiel said to himself. Then what had happened to John? Had he already been twisted into a Demon? Ramiel shuddered to think of that. The John Winchester he knew didn't reconcile easily with the image of a Demon.

Ramiel sat in silence for a moment, listening to the voices in Heaven with their excited chatter. Some of them were thrilled for the story to finally play out, others were terrified. Already there were small groups of Angels being sent out to protect the Seals, and Ramiel could feel the presence of the other Angels for hundreds of miles around him as they sought vessels and went to complete their tasks.

"We're all going to die," Ramiel whispered. He wasn't entirely sure if that thought was broadcast to his brothers and sisters, but if any of them heard it they ignored him.

Ramiel straightened up with a shuddering breath and put the car in gear. He suddenly felt very tired, and the sensation came as a shock. _Tired. _Not entirely battle-worn-and-in-desperate-need-of-a-break tired (though that feeling was there too), but now-would-be-a-good-time-for-a-nap tired. Something akin to panic started to make itself at home in Ramiel's heart. If he was tired - _sleepy -_ his Grace was failing.

"No, not now," he said to himself, suddenly very conscious of how mortal he was becoming. He immediately stripped his warding to preserve his Grace and dug through his pockets until he found his phone, hurriedly unlocking it and dialing a number. "Come on come on come on," he muttered as it rang. No answer. "Dammit." Redial. One, two, three rings and then an answer.

"Hello?" was the groggy greeting.

"Ira," was all Ramiel could force himself to say. He was relieved to hear her voice, to know that the Demons hadn't gotten to her.

"Dad?" Ira asked, her voice still sleep-thickened, though she seemed to be waking up. "It's Jane, remember? Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I will remember next time. Everything..." Ramiel paused for a moment. With all the Demons out and about, he'd been calling his daughter once a week, usually remembering to call her by her middle name but forgetting the switch when he was stressed. Jane was able to see the Demons, and she knew her father was fighting them, so she reminded him when he forgot but generally she didn't worry about it. "Everything is fine. I just wanted to check on you."

"It's four in the morning. You called me the day before yesterday. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. I just had a nasty fight and needed to know you were okay. That's all," Ramiel said. There was silence on the other end, and panic seized his throat again. He pulled the phone from his ear to confirm that the call hadn't been lost. Still connected. "Ira?" he asked.

"Holy shit," was the quiet response.

"Jane?" Ramiel couldn't seem to stop his voice from rising when she didn't answer. "Ira Jane, what is the problem!"

"Dad, there are Angels outside my window." Jane's voice was quiet, almost awed.

"_What?_"

"Not coming for me," Jane added quickly, realizing her mistake a moment too late. "They're taking vessels. Dad, what's going on? What are they doing?"

Ramiel took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He debated lying to her, but this was too big to avoid talking about. "They're getting ready for the Apocalypse."

"The...what?" Jane asked, sounding as if she thought she had heard him incorrectly.

"The Apocalypse," Ramiel said, defeated. "The Seals keeping Lucifer locked up have started breaking. The Angels are coming down to stop it."

"Stop what? The damn _Devil _getting loose?"

"Yes. And if Lucifer is freed, he and Michael will fight. They will destroy each other and half the world along with them."

There was a brief pause, and then, "We're talking about _Revelations_? That's actually going to _happen_?"

Ramiel could hear the fear in his daughter's voice, and he mentally kicked himself for telling her the truth. "Not if the Seals don't break, and that's what the Angels are here for. They're protecting them. I'm protecting them."

Another pause, longer this time. "What if that isn't enough?" Jane's voice was small, and Ramiel almost didn't hear her.

Ramiel hesitated. He couldn't very well tell her that it would be, because he wasn't sure it was. He sighed. "We pray," he said.

"That's a pretty desperate time to be finding religion, don't you think?" Jane asked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Ramiel's mouth quirked into a half-smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose," he said. "Don't worry about it. There's nothing for you to do. We'll keep it under control."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Jane said, but Ramiel could tell that she wasn't comforted.

"I shouldn't have called," he said.

"I would have called about the Angels tomorrow anyway," Jane countered. "Well, today, I guess. And I have work later, so I should probably get back to sleep."

"Keep in touch," Ramiel said, feeling the weight attached to the words.

"I will. And I'll stay safe," Jane added, sensing that those might be her father's next words. "I love you."

"I love you too," Ramiel replied, hanging up. He leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts, to rest his eyes. The accompanying silence was unnerving in a way, like the calm before the storm.

"Alright, I'll bite. Why aren't you warded?"

Ramiel jumped slightly at the unexpected voice, turning to find Gabriel seated beside him. When he had determined there wasn't a threat, he shook his head and leaned back, closing his eyes again. "I took it off," he said simply.

"I see that Rami," Gabriel said in that voice he used when he wasn't quite annoyed, but was heading in that direction. "Why?"

"I'm tired, Gabriel," Ramiel answered, not reacting to Gabriel calling him 'Rami,' though he hadn't used the nickname in millenia. "Maintaining warding that powerful takes a lot of energy that I'm not sure I have anymore."

Gabriel was silent a moment. "Fantastic," he said dryly, though he was clearly concerned.

"I'll live a while longer," Ramiel said, opening his eyes and turning back to Gabriel. "Though I doubt that was your reason for visiting."

"What, I can't show a little concern for my little brother every now and then?" Gabriel asked, pretending to take offence.

Ramiel shrugged. "That certainly hasn't been your habit in recent centuries," he said, glancing out the window. "Why?_ Is_ that your reasoning? I would have thought we were either all about to die, or you needed to cash in a favor."

Gabriel considered this a moment. "I think I'm perfectly capable of all three reasons," he said.

"I'm fairly certain that's your way of not admitting I was right," Ramiel countered, not in the mood for Gabriel's roundabout reasoning. "I'll believe you though, if it makes you feel better. What do you need?"

"Wow, what's got you so bent out of shape?" Gabriel asked, caught off guard by Ramiel's gruffness.

"The Apocalypse. What do you need?"

"No, it's more than that."

They were both silent for a long minute, each refusing to go on until the other explained himself.

"You're Grace is failing," Gabriel finally said. It wasn't a question.

"Imagine that. My brother isn't blind," Ramiel said sarcastically. "The century you assumed I had left back in '85 was closer to fifty years. And Heaven isn't any closer to letting me back. I doubt they ever will."

"No, probably not," Gabriel said. Ramiel thought it was fitting that he at least sounded like he was upset about that fact.

"And you aren't here to help me with that problem, are you?" Ramiel asked, though it wasn't really a question; he knew the answer already.

Gabriel hesitated. "Not yet," he said carefully.

"Then what do you need?" Ramiel asked.

"First I need you to swear to do it."

"I promised you two favors. You'll get two favors. I'm a man of my word." Ramiel felt his annoyance peaking again.

"I need you to break Seals," Gabriel said, keeping his eyes trained on Ramiel for any sign that his brother was going to jump on him.

Ramiel's hand tightened into a fist, but he didn't jump at his brother, though the expression he now wore said he might like to. "Why would I do that?"

"You owe me," Gabriel pointed out.

"So? I don't want to see humanity wiped out over this ridiculous scenario."

"I want Michael and Lucifer to get on with it!" Gabriel exclaimed, exasperated. "We've been sitting around waiting for them long enough!"

Ramiel studied his brother. Certainly Gabriel had never really shown any kind of fear for the Apocalypse, but for some reason Ramiel hadn't seen him as the type to go out and try to jump-start it.

"So you were just waiting around for Dean to break the first Seal? Did you at least get popcorn for the show?" Ramiel asked, his voice poisonous.

"Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man. Four months in Hell," Gabriel said in a mocking tone. "I'd say it served him right for trying to kill me, but-"

"Wait, he tried to kill you?" Ramiel asked, and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Obviously he didn't try hard enough."

Gabriel gave him a 'shut-the-fuck-up' face and said, "He thought I was a Trickster, asshole."

Ramiel smirked. "Alright, he thought you were a Trickster and therefore couldn't kill you. Continue."

"My _point _is, I was _not _just 'waiting around for him to break the first Seal.' He's a stubborn pain in the ass, and if I could have gone down there and forced him to break it sooner, believe me, I would have. And he and that brother of his have this annoying habit of trying to save _everyone, _so I can just _see _them trying to keep the Seals from breaking."

"How terrible?" Ramiel said. "Why should they want their world to end? We can go anywhere we want, Gabriel. They can't."

"They were _born _for this, Rami," Gabriel growled. "This is their _purpose_."

"And that means they can't fight it? What kind of life is that? Born to kill your brother. I wouldn't do it. You wouldn't either. Michael's too concerned with going through with it _as written _to care that he doesn't actually want to do it. Lucifer's problem was always with humanity, not with his brothers, so I can't see him wanting to fight with Michael."

Gabriel's eyes were narrowed as he watched his brother. "What're you getting at?"

Ramiel rolled his eyes. "This whole damn thing is stupid! Heaven kept an eye on their bloodlines as if they were racehorses! Descended from Cain, because it's part of the cycle that's gone on since the beginning, making sure they were the perfect blend of hunters and Men of Letters. Do you not see how _fucked up_ that is? But if the Seals stay intact, Michael and Lucifer can't fight, and life goes on. And we will have made it up to them because they're _people, _not _tools._"

"You weren't there for the fighting when Dad left!" Gabriel shouted. Ramiel was sure Gabriel knew he sounded childish, but he didn't seem to care. "They're tearing each other apart! Now they have something to do that they know they need to do. So let them do it! Maybe He'll come back afterwards. Maybe He'll let you come back! This can all be over!"

There was a charged silence as Gabriel's words hung between them. Ramiel shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Gabriel. You're my brother. I love you. But I cannot just go around breaking Seals because you want me to. I can't. I won't." His voice was quiet, but it was almost deafening in the thick silence.

"You owe me Rami."

"Stop calling me that!" Ramiel said, aggravated. "Talking to me like we're suddenly children again isn't going to make me go through with your plans. Yes, I owe you. No, I will not catalyze the _Apocalypse _for you. They're more than just _vessels. _At some point I think you believed that too."

Gabriel's face was a mask of thinly concealed fury, but he didn't snap back. There were tears in his eyes, and Ramiel knew the reason Gabriel didn't care was because he couldn't deal with Heaven's constant quarreling anymore.

"I'm sorry Gabriel. I have to prolong this."

Gabriel just shook his head, and was gone.

* * *

"_Bankrupt?_" Chuck demanded. "_That's _why you send my manuscript back? You couldn't even give me a reason? I have to _call _to find out?"

"Look, Chuck, the books haven't sold as well as we'd hoped they would, and there's not enough money to continue publishing _anything_. It's not just your books," the voice on the other end of the line replied calmly.

Chuck was almost more pissed off that this son of a bitch had the nerve to be calm about the situation than he was that the publishing house had gone under. "You don't understand, the last book ended on a cliffhanger, and a pretty big one. I can't just leave it like that!"

"There isn't enough money," the man said.

"Did you even read it? This book is going to be big, I can _feel _it. We're just getting to the good part."

"We have published sixty books for you Chuck. You're the one who waited so long to make the story worth reading."

Maybe it was the beer Chuck had already had for a brewing headache, but he felt rage build up in him. The story had been worth reading since the beginning; it wasn't his fault he was the only one who could see it. It was just that the last book, No Rest For The Wicked, had ended with Dean being dragged to Hell. The book he was currently fighting about, Lazarus Rising, introduced Angels to the equation. Angels and the Apocalypse, and Chuck had seen why Dean had had to go to Hell in the first place. It wasn't that it was _just getting good, _it was that they were reaching the _climax _of the story - a peak that would last...well, he wasn't sure how long, but a buildup like that was going to have some major repercussions.

Chuck took a deep breath to steady himself. "Alright, look, just hear me out-" he started.

"Sorry Chuck. No can do," the man on the phone said. "You aren't the only author who thinks his work is the next Vonnegut or something. Send it to other publishers and see if they'll take it if you must, but you're getting nothing else from us."

The line went dead and Chuck slammed the phone down on its receiver. He wasn't entirely sure who he had been talking to, but he knew it was one of Sera's assistants. He wished he had spoken to her instead; she never would have been so insufferably rude. In fact, he was sure she hadn't even seen the manuscript, since sending it back without reason wasn't like her.

Chuck flopped unceremoniously onto his couch, rubbing his forehead. He feel the next migraine behind his eyes.


End file.
